Heir Brained
by Dia.G.onally
Summary: The war witnessed Draco managing his way into the Order's fold & the trio's cramped boundaries. Years later, they are quasi-friends. Does Hermione want more? Want to bet your copy of 'Hogwarts, a History? Flashbacks/action/post HBP
1. We Meet Again

Disclaimer: Not mine, JKR's. Really! And I'm not making any money from this either, though I know _that_'s hard to believe. Chapter titles may belong to the many singers who have entertained you and me through the years.

A/N: The first few chapters will focus on establishing their relationships/ past. The story will spin around between the present and flashbacks, humor and drama, sarcasm and romance, with a little suspense thrown in. It's gonna be a ride! Hopefully, fun for all. I've put in my soul... can you see the rainbows and dragons?

I have written non-fiction before, but never published fiction. I would seriously love feedback/edits to improve my writing skills. I already have the first 8 and last 2 chapters written, so this story will not be abandoned (if all goes well).

Many thanks to my beta Dixie, who has helped the following pages be much better than the original version.

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**We Meet Again **

Harry Potter was the boy that lived. Ron was the boy who stood beside him through his years at Hogwarts, almost always anyways. Hermione was the brain and the soul that kept them together, standing, planning and progressing against Voldermort. Draco was the jackass. He was the stitch in their sides that they eventually learnt to ignore, and then live with. Once he decided to turn to the Order of the Phoenix, after the Dumbledore tragedy, he was with them all the way… helping them take out Death Eaters, finding the horcruxes and eventually taking down 'Voldy' himself. Bickered through it all, mind you, but was a constant.

That had been 8 years ago. Since then Harry had moved on to become an exceptional auror (no surprise there); Ron played quidditch for Puddlemere United. Hermione was moving up the ranks in the Ministry of Magic. She had started as the assistant to the new head of the Department of Muggle relations, as the Death Eaters had run havoc among muggles in the previous years. Within 3 years she became the head of the department, after demonstrating quite easily that she was far superior in logic, planning and strategy than her superior (who in embarrassment and honesty opted for another post).

Such progress was unheard of, for one so young. Even though pre-war, the department of Muggle relations had been an insignificant one, it didn't stay so under Hermione's shift. She incorporated it with the Department of Relations with Magical Creatures and helped raise awareness and funds to enact new laws to better safeguard the basic rights of magical and non-magical beings. In light of the bigotry that had caused such loss and tragedy, she convinced the populous and the policy makers that prevention was better than cure; that an equitable society would be the foundation of a peaceful one. Her war hero status and her repute of being Harry Potter's closest advisor, helped her spear through many social and political obstacles. She wasn't too shy to employ the influence she apparently wielded.

Draco was still rich and gorgeous; so he didn't really need to do anything. Tiresomely for him, he was also smart and bored easily. So he decided to do what he liked best, infuriating Ron by becoming seeker for Ron's favorite quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons. It helped that Draco liked quidditch and was a spiffing good seeker, even though he said it himself. He suppressed the information that he had never fairly won against Potter, since that was neither here nor there. The glitz and glamour suited him and his ego. The constantly entertaining lifestyle suited his restless disposition and the traveling suited his lack of good repute with the ladies of the city he chose to call home in any given month. The short stints in the big cities of the World were just long enough for him to become the most sought after eligible bachelor in the region. They were however, not long enough for the naïve natives to catch on to the fact that they were not, after all, going to net the richest known bloke in the Wizarding world.

Despite the constant bickering between Malfoy and Weasley, they were inseparable when they did happen to be in the same city. Something to do with making new friends and neither being good at it… but that's not what they told themselves, or Merlin forbid, the other. They knew where they stood, trusted each other more than they would ever give credit for and enjoyed the sarcastic banter that flowed naturally. When they were back in London from their various tours, the same rules applied with Hermione, Harry and Ginny. The five didn't hang out together as much as the four did, still, the wizarding world would be astonished to discover just how much time was spent together over butterbeer, fire whiskey or hot chocolate. It may have had something to do with the bitter lessons Draco had learnt in his 6th and 7th years- of being bereft till the Order gave him refuge and purpose. Harry and the others had eventually given him a chance and he had not let them down. Draco proved very useful to the Order, using his sly Slytherin ways to out-think the Death Eaters that the in-your-face Gryffindors, fair Hufflepuffs and sharp but not shrewd Ravenclaws hadn't been able to, without Dumbledore's direction. And then, of course he'd saved Ginny.

All that was now, thankfully, in the past. Their present were now much more serene and stress free. Eh, nevermind that. Harry being an Auror, Ginny's husband and dad of 1 ½ children found his active and full life exhilarating but sometimes exhausting. Ron was involved ever so often in the occasional drunken brawls. Malfoy was ever so often the root cause of said brawls, covertly of course, as was the Malfoy way. Hermione constantly had to fight bureaucracy to bring about changes that seemed humane and logical to her but unjustified to said political figures. She also had an op-ed column in the daily prophet that kept her busy along with the War-orphan charity that she oversaw for Malfoy- a cause she had guilt-tripped him into, like only she could.

It was their charity's fund-raiser annual ball that had the war-heroes reuniting in London on this very cold December night. Harry was to be accompanied by the glowingly pregnant Ginny. Ron was coming with Fleur Delacour's cousin- Elma (only they knew what they were waiting for, they had been going around for 2 years and Hermione expected to hear about their engagement any day.) That left Hermione and Draco with the standing arrangement of going together. When it had become so, neither remembered. It suited them, so it stuck. It was also seemly, Hermione figured, to display solidarity amongst the historically rival houses that they came from. In her mind, they were setting a good example for Hogwarts students.

Sharp at 4:00 pm Hermione heard a knock on her town-house style apartment door and checked the mirror a last time, to ensure her new 'daring cleavage' midnight-blue dress was leaving at least some things to imagination. Ginny had accompanied her to the last shopping trip, an error in judgment Hermione regretted. Tremendously. As little as there was on the front of the gown, there was less on the back, and that meant no bra. The material was a dreamy flow-through-your-fingers satin, which draped every curve like a kiss – which meant no knickers! But Hermione reminded herself of the mantra that Ginny was trying to imbibe in her… if not now, when?

Hermione picked up her charmed-to-heat wrap and opened the door to the sight of platinum blonde hair framing stormy- sky eyes, skin of cream and the smirk of the devil. In a charcoal gray shirt and midnight black dress robe, making a regal portrait out of her doorframe stood Draco Malfoy. A portrait her neighbor seemed to be eyeing with much interest presently; with the dream of re-decorating her bedroom evident in her glossy eyes. Hermione waived the nuisance of her neighbor goodbye and gave Draco a quick hello peck on his cheek.

"My, my Granger, the ugly duckling may have some potential after all!"

"Hello to you too. Can't say I've missed you much, especially not through the duration when you landed yourself into Italy's finest prisons. I read about the fiasco you call a day in your life. How much did you have to give out in bail?"

"Funny, funny, Granger, a weakling sense of humor triumphantly emerging. But please, no more surprises tonight, I might not recognize you at all. Besides, it wasn't like that, not that I have to explain myself to you. Just a matter of some underhanded miscommunication. Worked out like a charm. No jail, no bail."

"Wonder how much the Malfoy lawyers had to contribute to the Italian lawmakers' individual family welfare plan to get you out of that one. Kindly elaborate on the exact sequence of events, I'm sure it's a hilarious story, from my perspective at least."

"I might have expounded, had we ample time. I would, however like to get there before any guests arrive, to ensure anything with my name on it starts and runs exceptionally. I may have been coerced into the charity and blackmailed into the event by a rambunctious pain in my arse, but now that the deed's done, it had better continue magnificently."

"Are you saying I was magnificent?"

"A magnificent pain in my arse, yes."

"I wouldn't fit in there Draco, not with the quidditch broom you have jammed up there."

"Hush child, do you ever stop talking? Come on then, apparate us already. I'll slide along since I don't know which part of the Cultural Center we are headed to first."

They landed smoothly into the kitchens of the Cultural Center. She spoke with the caterer and head chef, confirming all was as planned. The decorator had done her job well – nothing too elaborate or wasteful, but simple and elegant contemporary décor with a black and white theme and tasteful candle centerpieces. The charity manager sought them out, accompanied by the other coordinators who ensured them that everything was as planned. She went through the itinerary and speech intros with the compare. As she spoke with everyone, Malfoy observed, quietly; not unobtrusive because he wouldn't know how. Hermione noticed and ignored the hush that fell in all vicinities that Malfoy approached.

She then went in search for the lead singer of the band they had booked tonight -_Spellbound_. It was an up-and-coming band that Hermione had been told was classy and artistically well endowed. As she identified the young, beautiful and classy blonde, she realized the well-endowed reputation might have been from another perspective entirely. Hermione introduced herself and was surprised that Draco didn't jump into the conversation. She did see Shaylyn throw various glances towards him though, and stored that information in her brain – where she stored other such Draco-related morsels.

When she seemed to have gone over everything that she thought was required, she looked at Draco, raised eyebrows, seeking approval. He nodded. He gave one of those fleeting rare smiles that turned up the wattage in a warm-blooded woman's nervous systems significantly, if she were lucky enough to get a genuine smile, rather than his trademark smirk.

He walked over took her hand and went over to a table in a secluded area. "Relax for a while, before the circus begins."

Hermione closed her eyes as Draco wrapped her arm around his. His cool fingertips played iridescent notes on the nerves stretched taut in her spine. But as she was used to, she had herself superbly composed. Not a hint to anyone that this idiotic, egotistical, neurotic, notoriously fickle prick had been the object of her affection and shameful lust for the insane time span of 7 years.

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AN: So what do you think so far?


	2. Reluctant Designs

Disclaimer: Not mine, JKR's. The only way I'd make money off it is if I chose the word-count in each chapter to formulate a complicated pattern to chose numbers on a Lottery ticket, which then won, for once.

A/N: A BIG THANK YOU to my first reviewers who somehow found me within the first few hours of my posting my very first fan fic… and took the time to review! Also, a HUGE thank you for those who marked me amongst their favorites and set alerts for updates on the story, I am humbled and uber thrilled! There was excited running-around-the-house involved!

Many thanks to my beta Dixie, who has helped shape the following chapter into a vastly improved version.

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Damned Designs

Not a hint to anyone. Maybe except Ginny in recent months. Ginny seemed to have developed antennae for emotions in her pregnancy… perhaps Ginny junior was to be an empath? Sometimes Hermione was so emotionally exhausted with the stoic persona she adopted whenever Draco was around (or mentioned) that she figured she deserved a 'hero' award just for that.

There were moments when she imagined that it would be far easier to get it out and over with, tell him and then let it be damned. Hermione, however, was too practical to be blind to the consequences. She had that particular tête-à-tête scripted to the last dialogue.

"You're a freak Granger! I may muster magnanimity enough in me to abide your scandalous mudblood heritage as a distant acquaintance, but you have to be retarded to assume I would sully the Malfoy lines by being romantically associated with a muggleborn. That would be a reprehensibly offensive waste of my pure-blooded veins, don't you reckon?" Yes, he was wordy, that one. He'd probable throw in a few more 5-syllable words for dramatic effect.

Yes, Hermione Granger, muggleborn house-elf-right-activist, underdog-supporter, Gryffindor book-worm and Harry Potter side-kick knew exactly where she stood with Draco Malfoy, un-empathetic blue-blood prince, maverick loner, Slytheryn sex God and quidditch super-star. Close enough to be counted as a friend, inasmuch as Draco Malfoy would allow himself a 'friend'. She didn't want to scare him off further. No, she was ok _here_. _Here_ had taken her years to get. So she stayed thus. Stoic. At least with this proximity she had convinced him to pay his house elves. Lord knew the world was a better place, for Malfoy was a better human because of her. He surprised her by listening to her sometimes, when she least expected it. Like about the war-orphans charity.

Hermione and Draco sat on their secluded candle-lit table and chatted for about half hour, before the first guests arrived. Hermione could have cheerfully blockaded the roads so they would have arrived later… had any of them used the roads. Mostly, people apparated or flooed. Anti-apparition spells on an event designed to obtain donations for her cause would be slightly detrimental. So she reluctantly let go of her Draco-time as the guests approached and they circulated to socialize.

She spotted Harry and Ginny with their four-year-old son James and walked over. Draco joined them just as the hellos were underway. "Ginny, only you could look this gorgeous being this pregnant. And thank Merlin for that, your gene pool needs all the help it can get, considering Potter's lack of advantageous contribution."

Ginny slapped Draco's wrist lightly before she hugged him hello, slightly physically awkward due to her size.

"Draco, you've been gone months! My being the only one to bait Harry inspires guilt ever so infrequently. With you around though, I feel like a saint. By the way did you catch any interesting diseases in Italy's lock-ups?"

Draco's glance flickered towards Harry as he nodded a "Hey, Potter" and answered, "No, thankfully, that was mendacious tabloid crap that the idiotic reporter made up. Wasn't locked up, wasn't bailed out. Was, however, taken in on questioning because some brainless joker goofed up somewhere. They realized they had nothing to hold me and let me go in half an hour. That photographer was there for inebriated-misconduct-in-Muggle-company and decided to make hay while his flash shone. I have a feeling his career as a photographer may have peaked."

"Why, are you planning on buying the newspaper he worked for?" Ginny was now rubbing her tummy gently as she spoke.

"What would make you think that? You should know me better ex-Weasley, bought the ruddy thing the next day." Draco smirked and glanced at Hermione now, deducing with her exasperated expression that a moralistic reprimand was on its way.

"Draco he was just doing his job. Don't force him out of a living just because he was naïve enough to bugger you. Even if you've fired him, at least tell me you won't set up an obstacle course preventing him from gaining employment elsewhere. Please leave him be. Don't make it impossible for him to support himself honestly. "

"Granger, Granger… has anyone told you, you have trust issues? Ye of little faith, you lambaste me with tenuous allegations and then talk about fairness! You hypocrite, you." Though this part he'd said as if praising a little child for a deed well done.

"However shall you make up to me for these fallacious contentions? You could be my slave for a month, since you've made me give clothes to all my house-elves. That's a delectable image- you in a handkerchief! But I'll settle for a dance. Come now, I like the way this song seems to change vibes ever so often."

Hermione recognized that Draco was changing the topic, and knew that persisting it would be futile. Besides, her mind had jumped to a more prevalent issue. Dancing with Draco enticed the most conflicting emotions in her, and said conflicting emotions now bombarded her afresh, as she moved towards the dance floor with him. There they were, with license to be physically close, swaying slowly to the soothing, husky voice of the solo. She was close enough to lean in on his chest, feel her skin tingle wherever they touched and hear his heartbeat, the most intimate experience she could allow herself.

That was the good part.

The disadvantages were a little less obvious. They came as the self-recriminations that assaulted her moments after her head was laid on Draco's well defined chest; which forced her to take it away, lest someone suspect that her body-language went a little beyond plain friendly, especially him! That would be disastrous, for reasons mentioned afore.

It was also inopportune to be in such delicious proximity, only to have to let go in the next song, and watch him dance with someone else! It wasn't fun, this disturbing roller coaster, not at all. She didn't know when she'd get off. She figured it would be just as unexpected as the start had been. One day she had no funky thoughts about him. The next day she saw him dive into a spell to save a distracted Ginny while they faced Death Eaters. The most astonishing sight to witness had been that he did it with a reflex that couldn't be measured even in microseconds. Hermione had also seen Marcus Flint cast the hex, but by the time she uttered a counter spell to immobilize him, Draco had already tackled Ginny to the ground. He hadn't escaped unscathed, there was a sickeningly deep gash on his arm, deep enough so Hermione could see the charred black of his tendons and bones. The remembrance of the sight and smell of the searing flesh still made her nauseous. Had Ginny caught the full blast of the dark spell, she would have most certainly succumbed to her injuries right then.

That episode endeared Draco infinitely to the Order members. Not that Draco had ever endeavored to be endearing. There had been no assertions of being a rehabilitated soul or such from him. No, his ego ran much too deep for him to aspire for them to like him. He was who HE was. They could accept him or not, and he didn't seem concerned either ways. Witnessing him risking his life to save Ginny had spoken louder than his grunts, smirks or complaints ever could. He cared. They cared. In their own ways.

But that hadn't been the lightning and thunder day for Hermione, no. She was a teenage girl with the hormones of one, however much she tried to disguise it. Living in Grimmauld place, being cooped up like that for days on end without any outlet was not especially healthy for teenage nerves. Watching him get out from the common shower in the corridor with nothing but the drops of water and the sodding green towel around his narrow waist, was just fodder for unmentionable fantasies of him. It wasn't good for her soul, she was sure. Quite sinful really. And the idiot just had to have the sculpted chest and biceps worthy of Adonis, under the prismatic droplets licking his skin. She found she had to work extra hard to camouflage her thoughts and the sarcasm would escalate threateningly on the days he looked even more delectable than possibly allowed. Though that was still just the start of the 'lust' part. And she didn't blame herself for it. Ginny was in love with Harry, for Merlin's sake, but still drooled over Draco quite amusingly. No, Hermione was a warm blooded teenage girl with the burgeoning desires of adolescence, caught in a decidedly stressful war and confined to the dark house with three good looking blokes. It was no grand coincidence that she developed a mild crush on one of them.

Her intelligence told her it was a psychological response to the stressors- a welcome distraction her psyche reveled in for sheer entertainment value. And her logic told her it was just a phase, it would pass. She probably found Draco to be the object of her affections because Harry was too much of a brother and Ron too much of a friend; she couldn't afford for things to get complicated or volatile with either in such critical times. Draco, her subconscious chose, or so she told herself, since she knew it was never to be. EVER. So it was safe this way. Safe, yes, that's exactly what her subconscious was opting for, in choosing to have designs on the menacing Slytherin bad boy.

But that wasn't when the 'love' word bombarded her life either. No, that just sneaked in, the rotten wanker.

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OK, I'm musing on this chappie's titile. It was originally _Reluctant Designs_, though methinks _Damned Designs_ may be better. If you review, please let me know. Oh, and please do review.


	3. Memories

A/N: I LOVE that readers from so many countries unite here to just… read. We all do have something in common. It's brilliant to be a part of that common factor. I have some adorable reviews for the last chapter too, for which I'm truly grateful.

Now the serious/ drama/ flashback phase… that will go on and on and… well you get the idea. These flashbacks are to define their relationships as they evolve.

Disclaimer: If I owned these characters or this world, I'd be at Hogwarts right now, creating much havoc. Since I don't, and it isn't gonna happen, I'll just have to settle with the magic of fan fiction, from which I make no money whatsoever.

Many thanks to my beta Dixie, who has helped shape the following chapter into a vastly improved version.

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**Memories**

Flashback:

Draco, Hermione, Tonks and Remus were out on a reconnaissance mission, investigating claims of some suspicious activity in an old abandoned factory on the outskirts of a muggle town called Medford. There had been reports of loud noises and strange lights the few times someone happened to pass by the desolate area. People assumed it was teenagers messing with firecrackers. The order members wanted to be cautious, there had been rumors of death-eaters experimenting with potions and new spells around those parts.

A 30 feet high rectangular wall surrounded the factory and the complex of buildings inside could be viewed only through the four equally high wrought iron gates. Hermione and Remus were to keep a lookout atop one of these high walls while Tonks and Draco flew over and in. Remus complained incessantly about those orders and tried his best to recant them, but Tonk's metamorphmagus abilities made her indispensable; she could disguise herself to look like one of the burly guards that walked the perimeter every half hour. That was the key suspicion factor, that an abandoned building with rumors of experimenting teenagers needed a security guard. Hermione wanted to go in too but Draco's physical prowess and stealth in escaping would outshine Hermione's any day, even if her magical knowledge and charms skills were a challenge for him to draw par with.

As it turned out, they hadn't been wizards. In less than 20 minutes of their sneaking in, Hermione was shocked to hear gun shots. Angry shouting, and the noise of a machine gun followed. Tonks knew a fair bit about the muggle world through her father's side of the family and would have garnered the danger of walking into a terrorist hide-out, but Malfoy was ill-prepared. His attitude towards muggles was cocky, careless and one of egotistical dismissal. Hermione knew he underestimated their potential for destruction.

Their protocols were strict and though Hermione and Remus failed to see the wisdom in it right now, rational. They were not to enter by any means. They had to stay uninjured and undetected, to be able to take the report or any injured members back to HQ; or call for back up. Even if they did venture in, they couldn't predict which part of the huge factory Draco and Tonks would chose to exit, and it could cause cataclysmic chaos. No, it would be better to trust them to make it out the building and _then _help them as best as they could. The consolation was that this qualified as a life-threatening emergency so Draco and Tonks could always apparate, even in front of muggles.

The five minutes that Draco and Tonks took to run into sight, allowed the frantically waiting Hermione free reign to imagine the worst. She found herself involuntarily praying, barely registering her own repetitive thoughts… "Please not him, please not yet." The muggles that they could see, she stunned immediately. Remus and Hermione agreed that they would have to report the terrorists to the muggle authorities anonymously and they might as well make everyone's jobs safer.

Once Draco and Tonks were out in the field, they were even more vulnerable targets. As soon as Hermione saw them, she utterred the mystify spell to cast a thick fog. Ron had accidentally invented the spell, while given the task to clean a very wet bathroom. The fog would give the wizards cover to dissaparate, while the muggles wouldn't be able to see their own hands in front of them.

There were stray gun-shots, frantic shouting and running. It sounded like there were about 4 sentries now stationed just inside the gate in front of her, apparently waiting for the perpetrators to show. Hermione stunned them, grabbed Remus's hand and apparated them to the emergency gathering point they had decided before the mission.

Anxiety assailed her and on landing, it changed to dread. There was blood all over Draco's chest. She witnessed her acute pain at the sight, as an objective observer… while subjectively she panicked. She liked neither the situation nor her reaction to it. She just looked at Draco's whiter than normally pale face and froze. She'd never frozen before, so she didn't like THAT either.

She felt surprising tenderness towards Draco, wanted to run to him, hold his hand and make him feel better. Practicality told her Draco would just scoff at her, especially in light of his recent experience with muggles.

"Hermione, Hermione!" Tonk's shaking and urgent voice un-stunned Hermione. "Let's go! They might be here soon and Draco needs medical attention RIGHT NOW. He didn't know that the red laser light on his chest meant a sniper's bullet would follow."

Hermione physically felt her heart miss a beat.

The next half hour went by in a blur. They couldn't take Draco to St Mungos because Draco was still wanted for his involvement in Dumbledore's demise. So they apparated him to Grimmauld's place. Before anyone could react, she flooed to the Hogwarts nurse Madam Pomfrey's personal quarters- as Poppy had allowed for such emergencies. Madam Pomfrey was still up and reading, so Hermione quickly informed her about the gunshot wound while Poppy gathered her supplies.

"Headmistress McGonnagal would have been alerted of this floo and will undoubtedly arrive at Grimmauld place soon. Let's go, I have everything I need."

Hermione had been reading extensively about addressing battle wounds recently but had not read much about wounds caused by muggle weapons. Now back at HQ, Hermione severely berated herself for the lapse. They ran to the designated _medical _room where they found Mrs Weasely attending to Draco the best she could, while Ginny dutifully applied some medicated pack to Draco's forehead. Mrs Weasly knew a barrage of healing spells, both as an order member and as a mother to her adventurous offsprings; spells to reduce pain, stem bleeding and prevent infection. She had performed many of those in an effort to keep the eerily placid Draco as comfortable as possible. She was wary of performing any spells to remove the bullet, because she didn't know any thing about muggle weapons or even the word _bullet_, though Harry had been guiding her efforts. She understood puncture wounds well enough, and knew that taking something out could mean un-plugging a vital blood vessel. So she waited for Poppy.

Hermione took one look at his blood-drenched shirt, blanched, and concluded that she needed to fetch a muggle doctor; damn wizard secrecy to Merlin's grave! Just as she was about to leave, Madam Pomfrey informed the many concerned attendees that she had handled such cases in the many years she had worked at St Mungos. She shooed everyone out of the room. Mrs Weasly and Hermione didn't budge and Poppy didn't seem to mind their assistance. First she asked the barely conscious Draco how he was feeling. He opened his eyes, looked past her to Hermione and uttered "Spiffing."

Hermione held his glossy eyes with a look that she tried to fill with as much reassurance as she could.

"His mental capacities seem normal. Draco, I'm going to put you to sleep for a while. Here, swallow this draught and count to 10." Poppy used a dropper to squeeze a dark blue liquid into his lips. He started counting and seemed to go under at 4. Hermione used the time to say a quick spell to sanitize everything around them, including their hands. Mrs Weasly vanished Draco's clothes to help Poppy check him for the extent of his injuries. Hermione hastily conjured a blanket to cover up his nether regions, as his injuries seemed confined to waist up and in the front. Madam Pomfrey had everything set up neatly on a table by now and went about checking for damage.

"The bullet missed his heart and lungs. It punctured a major artery and he has internal bleeding. Fortunately, nothing I can't fix." She extracted the bullet and sutured the blood vessels and tissues with spells and topical potions meticulously, for about half-hour. Hermione saw the fascia, muscles and flesh singe and melt back together to join with corresponding parts. She felt bile rise in her throat.

"He'll feel the pain and be weak from the loss of all that blood for a while to come, but with blood-replenishing potions he should be better in a week or so. The scar will stay; fortunately it's quite small, not like the burn wound on his arm or these nasty ones on his stomach and chest. Poor bloke, he seems to be going out of his way to make up for his past. I hope it's not to a path of self destruction."

Hermione felt a little angered at the last comment, but unsure as to why, stayed quiet. She made note of the potions Poppy instructed her to give to Draco and the intervals at which to administer them. Poppy had enough supplies for 2 days but Hermione would have to brew more later. Madam Pomfrey warned her that Draco might get up after a couple of hours, disoriented and in pain. She demonstrated spells that could be used to soothe him. She told them that someone would have to be with him at all times for the next 48 hours to watch for signs of infection or some internal hemorrhage they might have missed.

"Mrs Weasely, you have to take care of the whole household, I'll stay with him." Hermione stated this in an as matter-of-fact a tone as she could. Molly nodded to her and said "You can dear, after some dinner and a chance to change out of those clothes." When Hermione started to protest Molly spoke again, in a tone that brooked no argument "Madam Pomfrey is still here for a bit; aren't you Poppy? Hermione eat something, I saw the lunch you had- an apple. Go change into something more comfortable while I tell Ginny to get ready a piece of toast and some hot chocolate. You will be no help to anyone if you faint here out of exhaustion or low sugar. Out! Poppy, something a little more diverting for you perhaps? Sirius had this brandy that especially soothes my nerves."

Hermione was too practical to fail to see the logic in Molly's words so didn't argue further, afraid Molly might just volunteer herself or someone else for the vigil. Mrs Weasely conjured pajamas onto Draco and hushed Hermione out into the hall where the concerned sat in wait. She updated them on Draco's health and called Ginny over to her side as they both headed to the kitchen. Hermione nodded weakly at Harry and Ron, she wasn't feeling upto an elaborate conversation right now. She needed some time to process her emotions, which had taken her by surprise. Ron and Harry would have been updated by Remus and Tonks, but ambled along with her on the way to her room. "I'm fine guys, just need to change and freshen up. I'll see you down in the kitchen in a bit." They looked at her searchingly and after a quiet hug and "Glad you are fine" headed off.

Hermione jumped into a quick shower to wake up, changed into her most comfortable nightwear- an old, misshaped, cotton, gray T-shirt and a loose, faded, checked cotton pajama. She then rummaged through her locked trunk for the 'Stay Sharp' potion that had helped her stay awake studying, many a exam nights. The potion wasn't exactly on a ministry-approved list so she hid it in her pocket for later. She locked her trunk, grabbed a book on healing and rushed off to the medical room, where Draco lay. She forced herself not to run. As it was, she may have displayed an overzealous concern for his welfare. She hoped that might have passed off as her usual worrywart temperament whenever anyone showed up injured at HQ.

She entered the room to find Poppy sitting in the lounging chair with her feet up and eyes closed. She gently shook the matronly figure and thanked her for her brilliance. Poppy nodded kindly, told her to floo immediately if anything seemed amiss and left. Hermione took her place on the lounger and sat staring at Draco for a timeless while. She was shaken from her trance when Ginny came in with a tray with some toast and a mug of hot chocolate.

"I thought I'd find you here. You know, I owe it to him to be here, so if you'd like to go sleep, I'd love to keep watch."

Hermione shook her head, "I'm fine, I'll watch tonight. I still have the adrenaline rush, so won't be able to sleep. You should catch some sleep so you are functional tomorrow during the day, I'll rest then."

"Sure?"

"Quite. Go now Ginny, it's already past 1."

"Okay, but I have orders from Mom and Madam Pomfrey to not leave you till I've seen you finish what's on your plate."

"Ginny, I couldn't eat even if I wanted, I'm too queasy. All that blood!"

"Scary innit? I'm glad you're OK. Who'd have thought we'd be losing appetite and sleep over Draco Malfoy, in a way other than to plan his demise? He isn't bad, all bad though. Just had a bad start. Can't blame him for Lucius's teachings. I hope he gets better soon. Thank Merlin the bultet seemed to have missed his vital organs. Is that how you say it? Oh, B_ull_et. Got it. Madam Pomfrey was saying outside that it's a good thing you came to her immediately… she said he'd lost so much blood that he could have died of shock if not attended to with haste." Ginny glanced sympathetically at Draco, hugged Hermione goodnight and left quietly. She didn't notice that Hermione had suddenly frozen in demeanor and paled in complexion.

Draco could have died. Her heart missed another beat. Of course her brain had processed it, but hearing it spoken sounded far more dreadful. In fact it sounded unacceptable.

That was when it hit her.

Nothing like the thought of losing something forever, to make you realize you'll miss it like hell. Nothing like the thought of losing someone forever to make you realize you care for the person, however nonviable the idea, unpleasant the person, disastrous the match or unrequited the love. Love? LOVE? How the fuck had _that_ happened?

So that was how Hermione Jane Granger knew, on a cold night on December 5th that she loved and was perhaps even IN love with the certified jerk named Draco Malfoy.

000

Hermione thus brooded over the complications in their lives for hours, some thoughts morose, some excited. Well, most morose. Truthfully, all morose.

Every one Draco had loved, or who cared for him, was lost to him. His parents had been tortured and imprisoned by Death Eaters the day he failed to complete his murderous mission. She assumed the only reason they hadn't been killed yet was so that Voldermort could tempt Draco to come in, in an attempt to rescue them. Snape, Draco's mentor had to sever all ties from the Order on Dumbledore's order, so he could stay in touch with Voldermort's plan till the very end.

Snape's last communiqué had been when he had showed up much later that fateful night, at Remus' doorstep, with a letter written by Dumbledore explaining that Snape had done everything on his orders. The letter stated clearly that if Draco, had he not uttered the Avada Kedavra spell, was to be granted asylum. Remus had been the logical choice, as he had a reasonable temperance that could be appealed to, even in highly charged situations; unless it was a full-moon night, which, thankfully, it hadn't been. A battery of tests on the letter had proved it genuine and Draco had been accepted into the fold, completely unwillingly and with much display of abhorrence.

Since then, Draco had been living reluctantly among enemies and had been reminded of that everyday. Only huge sacrifices on his part had opened people's eyes to his true strength of character. They had thawed, but too slowly to prevent the freeze that had taken residence in Draco. From a petulant, immature and spoilt kid, he had morphed into the epitome of the strong, silent alpha male. Not so silent with his sarcastic quips though, those still amply grated on people's nerves. Hermione realized that the cold exterior was a defense mechanism Draco erected to save his sanity.

She vowed fiercely to be his best friend, or as much as he would allow. She vowed to take care of him the best he'd let her. She vowed to show him that people around him had forgiven him, had accepted him and now cared deeply for him. Perhaps that would melt some icicles in his heart, sway him away from the self-destructive instincts others claimed he displayed.

She held his hand and cried for him. She leaned her head against his arm and cried for herself. She knew they would both be fine, eventually; she'd make sure of that. However, right at this moment, she allowed herself the luxury of self-pity for a love that would stay unannounced, indemonstrable and unrequited.

She stayed holding his hand through the night. At around 5 am, he started mumbling and thrashing frantically. His forehead was burning. She picked up the malady- strip that the medi witch had left behind. She recalled her instructions. "If the color stays within the yellow and orange range, it's to be expected. If the fever turns it red, give this potion immediately and check his temperature every 15 minutes to see if it reduces to orange. If it goes beyond red to reach black, floo me immediately, no matter what hour."

She checked his temperature by laying the strip on his forehead and it turned red. Hermione immediately gave him the potions that Madam Pomfrey had mentioned, and cast some healing spells to help him more. He seemed to be comforted a little in 10 minutes, in 13 he stopped thrashing and his fever reduced to orange. He was still mumbling incoherently. Hermione caught one word that had her head jerk up; in light of recent revelations, it broke her heart and stayed seared in her memory forever. "Mud-blood."

She made another promise to herself that day - never to tell him she loved him so. It just wouldn't do.

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A/N: 3 chapters in 3 days. Not bad, eh? With the work week on, I'll try to post 2 chappies every week till Chapter 8. Though I'm worried I may be going overboard with the angst (and there's so much more to come, you have no idea!). So if you review, and let me know what you think, I'll send you a wish. Nah, here's the wish for a perfect day anyway; but it'll be ultra nice of you to review!


	4. In the still of the night

AN: Your reviews and support mean much!

Disclaimer: Still not mine. No, you gotta believe me!

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**In the Still of the Night**

"Earth to Hermione!" Hermione jerked out of her reminiscences to see Harry sitting next to her on the same secluded table where she and Draco had been sitting earlier in the evening. She wondered how she had gotten here. The last she remembered was the song ending and Draco walking away to chat with a business associate; for Draco, despite his playboy ways and grueling training schedule, maintained tight control over his business empire. He intended to retire soon from quidditch, while he was still at the top of his game, to head his empire. He had once revealed that to her in an uncharacteristic lack of reserve. The 4 glasses of firewhiskey might have been the impetus behind such sharing of confidences, that and him feeling an year older on his birthday… for aging was yet another phenomena that the man held in much contempt.

"Mione, you seem a million miles away today. Is everything ok?" Harry looked at her with concern and mild amusement shining out of his emerald eyes.

Unexpectedly, Hermione felt the most irrational envy – envy that she hadn't fallen for a balanced, nice man like Harry, that no emerald (or even a boring green) eyes would look at her with lust or love; that she didn't see herself have a baby anytime soon. The plan that she had charted out for her life back in school had all gone amiss. She'd thought she'd be a healer but all the blood and goriness of war had put her off. She had instead gotten into strategizing ways to prevent further violence. She had always imagined she'd be happily in love by 23, married by 24 and would have her two children before 30. She was now 28 but had achieved but half of one of those 3 goals. She fell in love, but it had been far from 'happily'; she'd tumbled headfirst, kicking and screaming all the way. She knew her morbid thoughts assailed her more than usual today because it was December 5th. Exactly 8 yrs since the night Draco was shot. She shook her head to shake off her negativity and went into her auto-mode stoic stature.

Harry looked even more concerned now but Hermione smiled reassuringly "I'm fine Harry, just tired. My age is catching up to me, juggling 3 jobs together tires me out now. I just need some time off. I'll sleep in tomorrow, I'll be fine. Where's Ron by the way? He's more than fashionably late now."

"I think he may have popped the question today. He bought a ring for her the day before, though don't tell Ginny yet. If Elma refuses, it'll be incredibly embarrassing for Ron if the whole clan knows, considering they're always in each other's hair and homes because of Fleur."

At that Hermione felt her eyes prick with tears. "Oh Harry, that is brilliant! Of course she'll say yes. A blind Blast-Ended Skrewt could sense she is totally in love with him, and he so deserves that! Oh that'll be wonderful, do you think they'll have a June wedding then?"

"I think Ron may be in a bit of a hurry. He may just want to get a license and do it next month at the registry. Though Molly, Elma and Fleur might not allow it. We'll see. How's your social life these days Mione? Anyone interesting catch your eye?" At this Harry looked over to where Ginny and Draco were dancing together. For a moment Hermione panicked that either she was getting transparent or that Ginny may have revealed something to Harry. Hermione was spared from answering at witnessing the apprehension mounting on Harry's face. She followed his gaze to see Ginny looking very uncomfortable, in pain, as she bent over, leaning sideways on a supportive Draco who looked stunned at the wetness spreading over her dress. Ginny was in labour and her water had just broken.

Harry sprinted over to Ginny at the speed of light, closely followed by Hermione. Harry apparated Ginny to the safe-point near Purge and Dowse, Ltd. to enter St Mungos. Hermione apparated to Ginny's room to collect the packed belongings. Draco oversaw that James reached the safety of Molly Weasley's hug. It had been pre-decided for James' sake that Molly would take him home to the Burrow when Ginny and Harry headed to the medics. This way he'd be surrounded with the security and familiarity of his cousins and family, instead of the cold walls of a hospital corridor and the mumblings of a frantic father.

Draco quickly briefed the appropriate event coordinators, spoke quietly with the key-note speakers and then apparated to Harry's house, still amazed that he was one of select few allowed through the incredible wards set up by Harry, Ginny, Hermione and the Auror department. He helped Hermione with the bags and they flooed to St Mungos.

There, they helped set up Ginny's reserved private suite while Ginny herself was taken into the 'labour in progress' ward on the same floor. They found their way into the corridor outside that ward, knowing their way around because of James and the other Weasley babies that had entered the family's delighted fold in the last few years. They were joined by various members of the Weasley clan in spurts of arrivals and departures. Mr Weasely, Bill, Charley, Fleur, Fred, George, Angela, Bridgit and the newly engaged and ecstatic Ron and Elma arrived within a few minutes. Somewhere along the way, Draco disappeared.

The news of Ron's engagement, combined with Liliana Potter's imminent arrival, lifted the spirits of the Weasely clan beyond their average boisterous decibel levels. Mr Weasely slapped Ron's back happily "Congratulations son! Knew you could do it!" Fred and George took that as an excuse to chime in, one after the other "You did it!" (slap) "You got her to agree!" (slap) "What did you use, the Imperius?" (slap) "Or a love potion…" (slap) "…that you got from the gypsies that crossed our town last month?" (slap) "Did you finally find something to blackmail her with?" (slap) "It was her aunt from Venice, wasn't it?" (slap) "We told you, you could use her drunken outpourings as leverage to get your way with dear El." (slap) "Congratulations!" (slap) "I was almost sure you wouldn't die an old maid, but George here had no faith in you" (slap) "That reminds me, George, you owe me a galleon for that particular wager." (slap) "No, Fred, I don't believe I do yet. You see that galleon the day they get married, not a day before!" (slap) "You're right George, this is Ron after all, El might come to her senses yet." (slap)

By now Ron was sputtering red-faced, trying to extricate himself from the twin's reaches and edge in a word sideways. Elma decided to distract the twins by planting sweet pecks on their cheeks. They embraced her like a long lost friend and officially welcomed the medi-witch into the family. "We're not that bad really, just a tad mad, you know." Elma smiled her sweet confident smile and replied, "You're a trifle more than tad mad Fred Weasely, but that's why you are adorable. Mad is entertaining. If you get boring though, you're in trouble."

An affronted George protested, "Boring? Us? Banish the evil thought, the 9 plagues will metamorphose your apple garden into a Crumple-Horned Snorkack farm before _we_ get boring!"

The lime-green robed staff came and warned them to keep their voices down. Repeatedly. Finally a stern-looking, plump woman, in fuchsia administrative robes and gray whiskers came out and asserted that only 2 attendants were allowed to stay. Elma, a healer on the first floor (Department of Creature-Induced Injuries) had a reputation to maintain and suggested everyone follow policies. Hermione was on the authorized list of emergency contacts with Mr Weasely. Since almost everyone else present was a parent and Ron and Elma were still in throes of their engagement, Hermione and Mr Weasley insisted that the rest head home, reassuring the others that they would be in touch as soon as there was news of Liliana's arrival.

Ginny Potter had been offered the most luxurious suite at St Mungos. No one was surprised. Harry was not only the single most influential figure in the wizarding world, but also a significant contributor to the various charities at the hospital. A tired Mr Weasely decided to rest in the suite down the hall till Ginny came closer to birthing. Hermione was too restless to wait in the suite. Besides, she wanted to be here if Harry came out- tired, needing pumpkin juice, a break or a friend. So she sat down on one of the plastic chairs, preparing herself for a long night ahead.

Hermione looked around for something to read and spotted an old edition of Witch Weekly that featured the Chudley Cannons, Draco's quidditch team. Complete in their tight formation and tighter uniforms, they raced across the front page and centrefold. Every once in a while, a blurry Draco was seen, zooming across, diving down or shooting above the page to catch the snitch. Then he would halt his antics and grin gloatingly, basking in the apparent applause of the avid audience. It had been about an hour or so when she saw the man himself brighten up the room as he walked towards her, changed and carrying an assortment of bags in his hands.

He placed the bags on the floor next to her. "It took me a while to finish playing host at the gala. I detoured via the manor to change into more comfortable clothes. Took the liberty of heading to your apartment to pick out these muggle clothes that you like to lounge in. You're predictable, you know... I found all these in the exact closets and drawers I thought they would be in. Here's a sandwich and some tea. While I was home I asked the elves to conjure something a little more appetizing than the wilted fodder they pass off here as food in their despondent excuse of a tearoom."

Hermione was too grateful and too surprised with his thoughtfulness to protest his infraction into her privacy. She peeked into the bag of clothes he'd got her and was mortified. He'd got her undergarments too! So he'd noticed she wasn't wearing any! She turned red, looked at the floor, muttered a thank you and headed off as she heard his amused chuckle behind her. No doubt, he'd identified the cause of her embarrassment and found it amusing. That snake! Still, she couldn't reprimand his consideration. She would be much more comfortable, waiting for hours in these clothes, than she would have been in the skimpy scarf she had on.

Just as she was turning around the corner, she looked back and their gazes met. Hermione caught her breath. He'd been watching her walk away, made a show of glancing at the magazine she had been reading, winked at her and settled down to read a newspaper.

As soon as Hermione entered the suite, Mr Weasely rushed out from his room in anticipation. She assured him Liliana hadn't arrived yet and headed to freshen up and change in the huge bathroom. Draco had got her a toiletry bag with an M embroidered on it. From the guest cottage at the mansion, she presumed. It had everything, from cleansers, toothbrush, face-wash and shampoo to a lovely perfume that whiffed of Jasmines. On an impulse, she dabbed some on. Feeling much better and decidedly more comfortable, she returned to the corridor outside the ward where Ginny was undoubtedly in pain… poor girl. James had come with the span of a few hours; so hopefully, the labour wouldn't be too long this time either.

As Hermione turned the corner, she saw Draco was still reading the newspaper though it was a French publication. She sat down next to him and asked him if he had some business interests there and he replied in the affirmative. He looked at her scrubbed face, hair tied in a messy bun. "Now there's the Hermione we know and love."

Unsure what to say, Hermione changed the topic and tried to convince him to leave and go rest, but surprisingly, Draco didn't budge. He said he'd hang around for a while to give her company and make sure "Potter didn't go berserk."

"Malfoy, that nurse asserted that only 2 attendees are allowed."

"Granger, the Malfoys have contributed three wings to St Mungo's. Two of those have been donated by me personally, laid the first brick and all. Are you honestly naïve enough to consider they'll have the audacity to throw a Malfoy out of a Potter's birth? Hell, if we wanted, we could have had the whole guest-list from the party, and their neighbours here... and the Fuchsias couldn't have done a thing. But it was the decent thing to do, to take the Weasley racket out of the hospital corridor. I doubt they'll have an objection to you and I sitting quietly here, minding our own company."

Realizing he was right, Hermione returned to her magazine. She made a show of reading anything but the article that mentioned the salient highlights of his team's numerous achievements and synopsized his social life this past year. She hadn't been astonished at all, to observe that the latter had much more space dedicated to it than the former. The two had been sitting in the uncomfortable yellow plastic chairs in comfortable silence for about half hour when Harry came out, looking tired. As soon as he had answered reassuringly about Ginny's well-being, he tried to convince them to while their night more contentedly in the suite. "The baby's in no hurry to arrive. The medi-witch told me it would be a few hours at least. I'll send you a message when it's time."

"We're fine here Harry, can we get you anything? Tea, food?"

Harry grinned, "Nah, there's heaps of food in a tearoom inside. Guess they've figured the best way to keep restless fathers-to-be occupied is to keep them well fed. They have some 7 types of tea and 4 types of coffee, fruits, cakes, snacks, sandwiches- it's a veritable buffet! Almost everything's decaffeinated though." He looked a little put out with the last fact but Hermione could empathise with the hospital staff in their choice of keeping already jittery fathers away from caffeine.

"Brilliant, and we don't have access to that because?" Draco mumbled.

"I figure they know us nouveau-dads are not likely to be fed decently any time soon. You'll-have-to-cook-for-a month consolation prize I guess. I'll sneak out some cake to you into the suite and really, you both should head on up. I have a nice comfy lounger in there, whereas these seats here don't look particularly inviting. We'll send a message when Liliana's on her way. And Draco, I appreciate you being here, mate. Hermes might have got bored with just Mr Weasely for company. He would have interrogated her non-stop about new muggle inventions. At least with you, there's no danger of that conversation! But please head on home whenever you have to. I know you've had some tiring days."

Hermione was surprised to hear the last part. How did Harry know that Draco had had tiring days? Even she hadn't known that. She'd assumed she was the closest to Draco in the group. Maybe they kept in touch more than she realized.

On Harry's insistence they moved base to the suite. As promised, there were pastries waiting for them there. But there was a slight inconvenience. The suite had 3 bedrooms- 1 for Ginny, the baby and Harry, and one each for the two attendants. Mr Weasely was in one of the bedrooms and had become a notorious snore-emitter these last few years, so when Hermione glanced at Draco and then glanced at that room he grumbled "Don't even think it Granger. Not sharing." That left the lounge, with a sofa and the second bedroom. Draco offered to take the bedroom while he volunteered Hermione for the couch. Hermione grinned and threw a cushion at him.

"Both here on the sofa then." he shrugged.

They pulled up a chair to rest their feet, ignited the fireplace and accioed a blanket from the bedroom. They sat and chatted for quite a while about work, caught up on what had gone on since they'd met a few months ago, laughed at some strange stories they'd lived recently. Hermione mentioned her concern that so many of them had left the party abruptly. Draco informed her that when he'd gone back to the party, he'd offered excuses on their behalf to the guests, explaining the situation. She was again reminded of his detail-oriented ways and was thankful that someone had retained the use of their mental capabilities. Perhaps it was because _he_ wasn't spending time with the unattainable man who plagued his dreams!

He mentioned her loungewear looked comfy. "I didn't realize you liked gray that much. You used to have that scruffy gray t-shirt back at Grimmauld place too. I bet you a galleon that you still have that tucked in a trunk somewhere!"

She smiled, "I owe you a galleon then." The turn in the conversation took her back 8 yrs again.

"You know what date it is, don't you?" she asked him tentatively.

He looked at the newspaper that he'd kept on the table to his left to confirm and said "December 5th, why?"

"It's been 8 yrs since you were shot. Does it hurt around the scar?"

Draco looked surprised. "Right, that was December 5th. Whoa, didn't know you still had that stored in there Granger." He ruffled her hair.

Hermione closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the sofa, suddenly feeling the time of the night.

"No it doesn't." His quiet words surprised her.

She slowly turned towards him. She didn't know how long it had been since she'd seen him look this earnest, but he looked earnest now.

"It doesn't hurt."

His eyes looked white as the moon, sullied with the of various indentations of darkness.

"Are you still angry with muggles?"

"You know I'm not Granger. Besides I'd like to think that I gained more from that experience than I lost. Watching you slave after me that whole week was brilliant. And for a month Potter and Weasley weren't their usual sodding selves. It was beyond peaceful. She-Weasely was a devout server too. There were a couple of times in later months that I figured it would be worth getting shot again, just to get Ron to shut up!"

"Don't say that! It was perfectly awful to see you come close to dying. I almost imagined I cared for you!"

"But you did! You loved me, you told me so yourself!"

At that Hermione looked at him completely flabbergasted. "I did no such thing!"

The gray in his eyes turned to an amused gold. How did he do that? "Vexing you is so easy Granger, you are refreshing! I usually have women falling and fawning all over me… and here you are, trying to convince me you don't care."

"That's because I don't!" Hermione scoffed annoyed, closed her eyes and rested her head back on the sofa again. She jerked as she felt Draco's arm go around her shoulder, but settled contentedly as he pulled her towards him. He rested her head on his shoulder and closed his eyes.

Hermione's mind kept echoing with the word "Jackpot!" She slowly drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face. She had a new favourite place in the world – sleeping in his arms.

When Hermione woke up, she felt at ease, like she did in her dreams of him. She realized she had a new favourite place, far superior to the previous one. Sleeping in his arms on a bed. On a bed! What? How?

A flapping noise had awoken her. She looked around, realized where she was and saw Draco beside her, his arm around her waist. He looked devastatingly beautiful, sleeping peacefully like this. Atypically, he looked unguarded, serene and oh-so-overwhelmingly angelic. His pale blonde hair fell unbidden over his forehead, his long pale lashes bowed down to worship his strong cheeks, and his soft, pink, deliciously kissable mouth was not pulled back in his tight trademark smirk. Back at Grimmauld place, when she had watched him sleep that whole week, he had always looked distressed, taut and paler than usual. When awake, he was sardonic, sarcastic and completely devoid of emotions. Seeing this side of him, now, opened floodgates of emotions in her that had been well and truly dammed for years.

The flapping noise broke her from her reverie. She turned to see a paper plane flapping its wings incessantly, irritated that it hadn't been read yet. Still laying in his arms, she reached for it.

It was a note from a medi-witch in the LIP ward. Ginny was about to deliver her baby girl within the next half hour or so! Hermione looked at Draco one last time, trying to take a mental snapshot of him for later. She knew she would spend very many hours in the pensieve going through this night, just looking at him. She denied herself the temptation to steal a peck and gently shook him awake.

He opened his gorgeous silver eyes, which she could not help but admire in their blazing glory, no more than 6 inches away. How could anyone think his eyes cold? They were like the horizon at sunrise, ever-changing, with the promise of so much more. She saw his dilated pupils constrict and the flecks of gray flame into silver. He smiled gently. "Hey, Granger."

She smiled back, told him it was time to head out and gently extricated herself from his arms. Hopefully, her eyes hadn't betrayed how she felt. This dreamscape had been as close as she was ever going to get to her dreams of him. She wasn't sure if she was thrilled or lost. She could wake up like this every single day of her life. She really could. Maybe a love potion would be worth it after all. Truly!

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I wont be greedy. Won't ask. But you see that little button down there that says 'Review'? Isn't it begging to be clicked?


	5. I Wanna Have Your Baby, Maybe

A/N All right, it's official, I'm a dumbf--k! Being new to fandom, I didn't realise that my account had by default 'disabled' anonymous reviews. Which could be why if you weren't signed in, it wouldn't have accepted your review! So if you made the effort to write one, and it didnt get in, I am **SO **sorry! I just fixed it though, so now you don't have to have an account with fanfic to submit a review. So please submit one? To make up for my idiocy, I'll post 2 chapters together, so if you like, you could even submit 2 :)

**A shout out to the most wonderful Simkey, Li0n3ss and Okikuchan; for being the most regular, most awesome reviewers. You make me wanna write more, and you don't know how important that is for me. Thank you to Tandy for being my very first reviewer! And thank you to everyone who is reading, giving me the time of day. **

(from Ch 4)

He opened his gorgeous silver eyes, which she could admire in their blazing glory, not more than 6 inches away. How could anyone think his eyes were cold? They were like the horizon at sunrise, ever-changing, with the promise of so much more. She saw his dilated pupils constrict and the flecks of gray flame into silver. He smiled gently. "Hey, Granger."

She smiled back, told him it was time to head out and gently extricated herself from his arms. Hopefully, her eyes hadn't betrayed how she felt. This dreamscape had been as close as she was ever going to get to her dreams of him. She wasn't sure if she was thrilled or lost. She could wake up like this every single day of her life. She really could. Maybe a love potion would be worth it after all. Truly!

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**I wanna have your baby, maybe!**

The gathered Weasely family and friends had been waiting for about 20 minutes or so when a medi-witch came out and told them that Liliana had arrived and both mother and baby were healthy. There were sighs of relief and whoops of joy. Mainly whoops of joy, loud ones. Malfoy smiled, genuinely.

A while later, Harry came out with Liliana Potter- an 8 pound bundle of pink, a doll that everyone instantly fell in love with. When Hermione held Liliana, she was transported to an entirely new dimension of unrecognized being. Her Goddaughter inspired such acute tenderness that it was overwhelming, and Hermione felt her eyes pricking. Liliana opened her eyes then, only for a moment- the gorgeous emerald green of her dad's. Hermione could have sworn that Liliana smiled!

Draco, they all knew, was too hesitant to hold babies. He had only ever held baby James when he was sitting in the middle of a big couch, (preferably, the center of a bed!) secure with ample cushioning and Ginny's proximity. When James had grown up though, he'd found in Draco a most compelling playmate. Though his adventurous and rambunctious uncles were undoubtedly more fun, Draco had a way of treating James like an adult, spoke to him like an equal, asked him for his opinion in quidditch strategies and such; that made James feel very grown up and classy indeed, so he had a special place in his heart for Draco.

Hermione didn't know how Draco would relate with a little girl if she weren't the tomboy that all Weasely granddaughters unfailingly became. Draco was not exactly the dress-up and tea party type. He did come over while Hermione held Liliana and touched her hand with a gentle finger. Liliana opened her tiny fist and held on to him and Draco looked very pleased with himself. Though Hermione was deliriously happy, she felt a few pangs in her heart region that she ignored, to be processed later. Reluctantly Hermione gave Liliana to the awaiting twins who were badgering her for their turn.

Soon, and to no one's surprise, the hospital staff tried to drive them out of the ward again, but of course everyone wanted their turn for a quick word with Ginny. Finally after about an hour, the mediwitch, with Harry's and Molly's heartfelt support, declared that Ginny needed to sleep and every one was to leave. Ginny was moved up to her suite and the exuberant family left for their homes.

Harry insisted that Hermione and Draco leave too. "Really Mione, I'd rather have you here with her tomorrow when I go home to rest. Please get some sleep, come back in the morning, say around 10, then I'll go home for a bit and spend time with James before I bring him here. We're fine, honest." Arthur had gone home to be with the sleeping James and Molly was now going to be at the hospital with Ginny, so Hermione relented.

And so, Hermione and Draco headed home. Routine demanded that Hermione offer a nightcap. As always, he accepted. She poured him the scotch she kept for him and poured herself one too, an exception to her usual chamomile-tea routine. They chatted about Harry, Ginny, the exuberant Weasely clan and the gorgeous Liliana Potter. Then they fell into a comfortable silence.

It was comfortable till Draco switched seats to sit next to her in the love chair, put his arm around her shoulder, looked into her surprised eyes and asked quietly, "You ok Granger? You've oscillated between looking deliriously happy and frighteningly sad today."

Hermione visibly paled, before telling him it was his imagination, a sign he caught.

"Hermione, spill."

He looked so uncharacteristically concerned and she was just so emotionally exhausted with the whole roller coaster of the past day that she could not control her eyes filling up, and a couple of tears escaping. Damn it! She did not want to seem wispy in front of Draco Malfoy- the floozy hater and user. But no, here she was, very much being wispy.

He didn't utter a word of recrimination or comfort, which was new for her. By now, most men she knew would have been telling her 'it was ok' or 'don't cry' or at the very least asking her why she was crying. He just patiently sat there, his arms around her shoulder, rubbing her arm, massaging the back of her head, which he made to rest on his very accommodating shoulders.

She wiped her eyes with the handkerchief he handed her. (He still carried handkerchiefs!) He bade her look at him with a gentle finger under her chin and spoke softly, "Hermione, tell me what's bothering you, you know I'm going to get it out of you. Either that or you will be forced to avoid me and anything I handle for a while, as you can be sure that there will be truth serum involved. I leave it up to you, your way or mine."

Hermione shuddered, she knew he was curious enough and capable enough to make good on his threat! She couldn't afford to blurt out the whole truth to him so figured half would have to be disclosed to satisfy his morbid curiosity.

"It's just that… don't laugh ok?"

He looked up as if thinking hard, "That I could manage."

"I don't care that I don't have a significant other in my life right now. Been there, done it, not really sure I want it as a permanent feature, you know… you're a resident of the same paradigm."

He nodded his assent and waited for her to continue.

"It's just that my biological clock is ticking. I've wanted a baby for so long. Holding Liliana today just reminded me of that. I'm going to be 30, I should've had 3 kids by now! But here I am, with no prospect in sight."

She saw the jigsaws fitting together in Draco's head.

"Why do you need a prospect?"

"What do you mean?"

"Let me get this straight, you want a baby, not a husband, right?"

"Yeah."

"Have you considered sex? It's an amusing way to make a baby."

"Yes, and how many men do you see lined up outside my door waiting to have sex with me, Malfoy?

"C'mon Granger, all you have to do is wear the kind of dress you wore today, rather than the nun garbs you usually don and you'll be fixed up with a decent bloke in no time!"

"I don't want to make a baby with a man whose sole criteria in making decisions regarding matters of the heart, is the appearance of the object of affection."

"Then you won't be making babies with any man."

Now jigsaws fell in place in Hermione's head.

"Wait! You're right! I don't have to make a baby with a man!"

"You don't?"

"No! I can make a baby in a test tube!"

"You can? What's that? And what kind of magic is that? I've never heard of it!"

"It's a muggle thing. There are these sperm banks where men from different socio-economic situations in life donate their sperms and you can pick and chose the gene pool you want your baby to belong to. Example, if you wanted a rugged, adventurous baby, you could go for the genes of an adventure-sports professional. If you wanted creative, sensitivetype genes, you could opt for a musician. If intelligence was paramount, you could choose the genes of a Doctor. Of course results aren't guaranteed, but you can improve the probability by choosing a sperm donor who closely matches your set parameters."

"That settles it. Muggles are truly loony! They've turned the one good thing about being human into a made-to-order delivery service!"

"C'mon Draco, you have to admit it's a good option for single women like me who are ready for a baby but not for a commitment."

"That makes no sense whatsoever Granger. A child needs a mother and a father."

"In those cases as well… for couples, where one party may have some medical problems; they can stay honest to each other and still conceive this way. It's decided then, I'll call a fertility clinic tomorrow."

"You will do no such thing! How can you make a baby with the sperms of a man you have never seen! Even carrot-top's sperms would be better than that! Get _his_."

"Oh no, I wouldn't do that to a friend! They're starting their lives; I don't want to complicate things where he feels partly responsible for MY child and me! He'll always think of it as his too, boundaries will be too hazy."

"How about Potter?"

"He'll be worse, not just because his emotional sensibilities run much deeper than Ron's, but also because of his childhood."

"Then it's decided, it has to be me."

Hermione choked and spluttered her scotch out from her nose. Her NOSE! In front of him!

"What on earth are you talking about Draco! How much have you had to drink today?"

"Not enough Hermione, not enough. If I had, I'd still be laughing at the Sperm-bank notion. How could you even consider that?"

"What's wrong with it? I can choose a baby whose father is intelligent, smart, good."

"Yes, because if the father was a liar, a nincompoop and a cheat, he'd have definitely mentioned that on the form."

"Err, I can look for a doctor or inventor or professor."

"Why?"

"Why? Because that would mean the character traits of intelligence and hard work could pass on to my baby."

"What am I? A homeless bum with an IQ of 10? I'm intelligent, fabulously gorgeous and you know I'm hard-working!"

"Ignoring your modesty, you're also a friend!"

"And that's a deterrent how? How is having someone you care for as the father of your child worse than carrying the child of an individual you've never met! How is that not worse than a one-night-stand that you can't remember?"

"Draco you're on a very sensitive topic here. Try to not be entirely judgmental and prejudiced _some _times. As I've emphasized, it is a very valid and in fact, brilliant choice for many couples and individuals."

"I agree that for many it would be the best alternative. For you it isn't. Not when you could have MY baby."

That sent shivers up her spine. The thought of having, holding and bringing up his child did make her insides glow. Still, she couldn't afford to lose Draco as a friend and as tempting as this offer was, she couldn't bear if things got complicated.

"What is wrong with you Draco? Are you forgetting who you are? You happen to be wizarding world's icon of pureblood royalty, the most eligible bachelor and not to mention a notoriously fickle playboy! Why are you suddenly so drawn to the idea of making a baby with a muggle-born out of wedlock? The thought alone would kill your mother, and make Lucius turn in his grave! I won't even get into how you would feel burdened with the idea of a baby somewhere, which could be disastrous for your playboy image- you would resent me... and the baby! And don't forget, a baby with my muggle heritage could be born a squib."

"Has it occurred to your thick-headed skull that there is something in it for me Granger? I am almost 30 too. I have met no woman that I care to marry, and I doubt I would want to alter my lifestyle for years to come. Has it occurred to you that I may want to have a baby too? You would be the perfect woman to have an heir with… I'm amazed I wasn't the one proposing this arrangement. Wait, I AM the one proposing this arrangement. You're intelligent, balanced, brave, and compassionate. Combine those genes with mine and our baby would be a genius with the looks of a Greek God, and don't worry, there's enough magic between you and me to ensure no squibs will be born anytime soon. It fits. It makes perfect sense. Besides, I don't give Merlin's bollocks about what my mother thinks about this. Honestly, despite outward appearances she cares deeply for me. If however, she objects vociferously to the muggle heritage being added to pure Malfoy lines, she can disown me. It would mean she would have to disown Malfoy manor, so I doubt she'd protest that much. And if you think I care about my dad's damned soul, you're truly misguided."

"As for my social life, well, you underestimate the pull of the Malfoy galleons, it could defy gravity, I tell you. It's disgusting. Convenient, but disgusting. If I hadn't met you and she-Weasely, my opinion of women in general, would be more than a little disrespectful. Well, that's not entirely true, I have met some intelligent and nice women… but no one I'd want to be bonded with for the rest of my life. You, I'm already bonded to. I don't envision myself getting rid of our friendship in the next 10 yrs or so, so I think we're safe there. I also know you're fond of me and not my money, so it's not a trap to snag me. You will be reasonable and not deny me access to my child. I like spending time with you anyway, so spending time together with the baby will not be an issue. You will be a good guide and a responsible parent. So you see, it makes perfect sense."

Though his reasons dented her heart ever so firmly, the thought was just too tempting to not entertain. Draco's baby. It warmed her body and soul. She couldn't have him but she could have his child. Honestly, there was no one in the world that she'd rather have a baby with. She worried about what would happen once he fell in love with another woman and eventually married. But that was a given anyway. At least, this way there would always be a part of him with her.

"Draco, there are innumerable ways this could go wrong... however, _hypothetically_, if we were to pursue this line of thought, can you promise me, in written, that you would never try to take the baby away from me- no custody battles and no manipulation of events?"

"As long as you are balanced and reasonable. If you get married and unexpectedly decide you don't want two fathers in the baby's life, that will not be acceptable. If you try to prevent me from being the father of my child, then I would make sure the child stays with me. However, as long as you are fair, I'll be fair."

Hermione sat in silence for a while, digesting it all. She would be a fool to turn the offer down, but she'd rather have him in her life in current capacity than not have him at all. She wanted to ensure he didn't end up regretting his impetuosity.

"Draco, let's think this through for a while. I want a baby, yes. Your genes would be great, even if there is the danger of pushing the baby over the safer side of egocentric. That said, I don't want one rash call to annihilate our fr… kinship. Let's take some time and space to think this through, make sure we are ready for a step this huge. Let's talk about this after you get back from your quidditch tour."

Draco looked like he was going to protest, but then his inexpressive mask fell again. He downed the rest of his scotch, got up and picked up his jacket, ready to leave. "The end of the month then, Granger." With a pop he was gone. Hermione hated when he left without proper goodbyes, which was often. She was never sure when she'd see him again and cherished the last hugs for a while. This time though, she was just glad to be alone to think things through. A roller coaster could not begin to emulate the twists and turns in her day today. She went to bed and tossed and turned all night, dreaming of blond, gray- eyed, cranky cherubs.

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Do you think I should include the last para of the previous chapter at the top, just so there's better flow for when you return after I've updated?


	6. Crash Boom Bang

A/N: The advent of the M requirement. Though no D/Hr action yet L... That's coming in the next update, I promise.

BAFTA British equivalent of an Emmy award

For a peek at what a cheongsam dress is please check any of these links after removing spaces: (No, I don't know who they are. This is purely so you know what I'm talking about below, as even I didn't know this dress was called a cheongsam! I'd earlier called it kimono style, which it isn't apparently.)

ancientmoods . com is a style that is close to what I had in mind for Hermione's date

ancientmoods . com/ ?cat339&showallY is pictures of different styles of cheongsam dresses.

Disclaimer: If I owned this world, I'd have much better things to do than write fanfic. Evidently I don't, and there are few stars brighter in my days than fanfic right now. Chapter title from Roxette's song.

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**Crash Boom Bang**

The month flew by in a haze. When not juggling between the ministry, the charity and the paper, Hermione spent a considerable amount of time over at Harry and Ginny's. She spent much time with James, reading to him her favorite childhood books, talking to him about muggles, taking him to the park or out for a treat, even taking him out for animated/ children muggle movies. Even though he was getting less attention from his parents than he was used to, he evidently loved his little sister tremendously and seemed quite protective of her. Sibling rivalry had not yet raised its inconvenient head.

The empath theory had proved itself valid. Liliana would immediately conform to the mood of the adult holding her. She blew raspberries when Ginny was happy, scowled when Harry was tired from a long day at work, slept peacefully in Ron's arms and always laughed most mischievously when Fred or George were holding her. Harry, afraid that the little soul was going through the complex emotional rainbow of complicated adults, requested Snape to blend a potion to safely block her empath powers. Snape assured him it would be ready in a few weeks, for the interim, he recommended a safe spell to block out other people's emotions- a watered down version of occlumency.

That was a relief for Hermione too, as she could not help but think of Draco every time she picked up Liliana. And then, Liliana picked up on her moods at a stupendous speed, biting her lip and looking more pensive than a 20-day old baby ought ever look. She knew the empath was picking up on her fretful uncertainty regarding Draco's hair-brained scheme.

She wondered if he remembered about it. She wondered if he'd meant it as a cruel joke. She wondered if he now regretted his impulsive proposition, and wanted to renege. And most of all she wondered, if he meant to go through with it, did he propose to do so in the test-tube way or the more traditional method. Of that, she was most wary.

Hermione wasn't a virgin. There had been a phase in fact, whence she had roamed muggle bars, unbeknownst to her wizard friends, in search of substitutes that would make her forget the ashen hair and smoky eyes of a certain playboy. While she wasn't proud of the 3 months when she lashed out in incredibly self-destructive behavior, she recognized it for the psychological tool of self-preservation that it had been.

Draco, at the time, had been going around with a blue-blooded, emerald-eyed, femme fatale, trading tycoon from Italy; and the tabloids had termed them 'serious'. They had been together for 4 months already; the longest relationship Draco had been in since school. Hermione had recognized that there was a chance Draco had met his match, while she was nowhere near over him. In a crazed attempt to 'get over' she'd launched into a quarter year's worth of copulating, like she had never indulged in before or since. She'd slept with brunettes, red heads, blonds, blue-eyed doctors, brown–eyed journalists, gray-eyed actors and black-eyed gypsies. While none of the men had been objectionable in the slightest, none of them had done anything for her heart. She'd always slinked off in the middle of the night, feeling guilty and dirty. She'd reached home, taken a scalding hot shower and cried herself to sleep.

One night she'd been out on a date with a wizard… an exception she was starting to make, out of a sense of urgency. Maybe she'd meet someone here that she couldn't meet in the muggle world? Troy was an infant-healer at St Mungo's and she'd met him a few months ago when she'd gone for one of Jame's regular appointments with Ginny, when Harry was out of town. James' birth may have also triggered some of Hermione's body-clock urgings at the time, but Hermione didn't want to dissect those emotions.

Hermione had not jumped into bed with Troy, as she had a reputation to maintain in the wizard world. They seemed to have a good time together and this was their 3rd date. That evening, they'd chosen a classy restaurant and Hermione had been wearing a forest green, cheongsam style, brocade creation that covered her neck to toe and gave her a very "earth mother" appeal. It was a well-fitting one-piece, with a mandarin collar, short sleeves, silver embroidery and frog buttons that ran all the way down the front, on her right side, to a slit in the skirt just over her right knee. Light make-up and sharp, silver chopsticks holding her hair up in a tight bun completed the look. Under the conservative, but classy attire, she wore the most provocative satin green lingerie; she fully anticipated spending the night at Troy's place. She never brought the men home.

They'd been sitting close together in the restaurant's booth, chatting and laughing over little things, both expecting the evening to go the same way. In an uncharacteristic display, Hermione had just popped a strawberry into Troy's mouth and he was licking her finger, when she felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

She turned around, to catch the cold steel of Draco Malfoy's eyes, as he entered the restaurant with the Italian temptress on his arms. At once, Hermione felt goose bumps at the excitement of seeing him unexpectedly; and the heartbreak, of seeing him with Adalina.

She hadn't even known he was in town! His team was currently touring France. As always, she remained stoic. Troy craned his neck to look around her, to check what had caught and held her attention and was happy to see Draco. They had met at various hospital charities where Draco had been amongst the chief contributors. Before Hermione could stop him, Troy waved them over.

Hermione had met Adalina on several social occasions where Draco had escorted her, and honestly, there was nothing to dislike. Adalina was intelligent, sensible and seemed like a genuinely nice person, if slightly more aggressive than Hermione was used to. Being a business mogul, Hermione conceded, she needed to be shrewd and aggressive. There was no criticism to be found in Adalina's behavior and no slutty labels to be slandered her way. No, they were a perfect match. Bold, intelligent, sly, charming, pure-blooded, independent, aristocratic and composed. Snooty, spoilt and demanding they both might be, but even had they _not _been born into it, they would probably have earned it.

As the couple approached their table, Hermione and Troy stood up to greet them, with Hermione's composure determinedly in place. Draco was smirking at Hermione as if amused at the unexpected antic of a naughty child, and came to stand by her chair. "Granger, interesting seeing you here. Mettle, a surprise, pleasant, I'm sure."

To anyone else, it would have seemed a normal greeting, but Hermione recognized Draco's underlying sarcasm. The 'interesting' was for the display he'd witnessed and the 'surprise' was his way of letting Hermione know his opinion about the coupling.

She cringed defensively, "Ah Draco, the surprise is all mine. What bade you descend to these pastures? I'm sure the desserts offered in Parisian cafes far outshine any fare this watering-hole could provide for your discerning tastes."

Troy was a little surprised at Hermione's hostility; he knew her to possess a warm, even temperament and had borne witness to the friendly banter that flowed between the war heroes at various occasions. He had noticed sarcasm fly high whenever Draco entered the picture, so he brushed it aside, figuring it to be a norm. Besides, Hermione and Adalina greeted each other warmly enough.

"Had we gone anywhere else, look what we'd have missed. Love that dress Granger, you surprise me every time. Slytherin colors from a devout Gryffindor? Don't let Red and Four-Eyes catch you in that, they may consider it borderline blasphemy." He touched the chopsticks in her hair and proceeded to pull one out, causing her hair to fall around her shoulder in waves. "Accessories that could kill… how very Slytherin of you…I'd be careful if I were you, Mettle."

Hermione was mortified, at his audacity, at her cascading hair, but mostly at the startling observations. She'd loved this dress the moment she'd seen it in the window of a fancy boutique in Diagon alley. The colors seemed to soothe her, yet entice some earthy passions. Had it subconsciously been about Draco all along?

"And I'd be careful if I were you Draco. The familiarities you assume with other women do not extend to me. I suggest we say goodnight if you don't want your date to see you amputated, poisoned or at the very least, jinxed."

Adalina chuckled and Draco smirked, while Hermione checked her temper with infinite control. Draco placed a quick peck on her reddening cheeks, bid them goodnight and proceeded towards his table by the gorgeous bay windows.

There they sat, happily flirting, while Hermione's evening was ruined. Determined to salvage what she could from it, Hermione put on an act worthy of a BAFTA, ordered some more dessert wine, flung it down and left the restaurant to give Troy, what he was to remember as the wildest night in recent memory.

She used Troy shamelessly that night, while an image of Draco stayed inexorably holographed in her mind. She used Troy to lash out, to avail a temporary release from her subverted frustrations. As Troy fondled her pert breasts, she saw Draco's long, adept hands molding Adalina's full bosom. As Troy entered her, she saw Draco sink into Adalina's moist depths. Hermione turned them around, to be on top and pounded into him as she saw Draco drive Adalina into oblivion. As Troy shouted his release, she heard Draco's sigh of pleasure. A few minutes after Troy hugged her and went off to sleep, Hermione gathered her clothes and apparated home. The evening had convinced Hermione that nothing on her part could help rid her of her fixation with Draco. Nothing non-magical anyway. She took her shower, _flagrated _the dress, brewed and then drank a modified version of the Tree draught. The draught was a nervine that was administered to emotionally disturbed patients to calm them down; it anesthetized the drinker from extremes of emotions, lending them an unfeeling sanctuary that they couldn't find on their own. She didn't cry that night.

The next morning she got an owl from Draco.

_How was it, my Slytherin temptress?_

She drank more draught and never cried again about him after that. She also didn't feel the need to sleep around any more. There wasn't any point. She figured her feelings for him were an extremely long, extremely idiotic phase that would pass once she found the right person.

A week or so later, she saw Adalina's photo in the Daily Prophet's society pages with another man, a fashion designer from Italy. She assumed a break up, but didn't feel much, as the draught had become a part of her routine. She gently refused all further invitations to see Troy again, which flummoxed him no little. A few weeks later, at Ginny's constant questioning and mounting concern over Hermione's lack of excitement over anything, she recognized her dependency on the draught and weaned off slowly. She was fine with herself now. She was sure she would find someone that she could fall in love with, when the time was right. If not, perhaps she would be the next McGonagall after all. Not for the first time, she wondered if McGonagall had a broken heart hidden under the strict demeanor. Perhaps she's lost someone in the previous war?

That reminded her of all the people in the world less fortunate than her. She had her parents, amazing friends, a successful career and a good life. She needed to contribute to the world more. The idea of the war orphan's charity was born and who better to approach than the richest man the wizarding world knew?

After that, Hermione devoted herself and all pent up energies into the charity, slightly ashamed that she hadn't thought of it any sooner. It had been a full two years since the war and the children of Death eater and victims had been languishing in ill-supplied orphanages. All living together without adequate counseling. Some too young to know, but older children still harboring the resentment of parents lost to the other side. Innocent victims to the crimes of adults. She set about organizing an institution to rectify these mistakes, as best as they could. She connived Draco into being the biggest contributor and brought the sorry conditions of the children into the light so it got the resources it deserved.

Around December she always felt a little edgy so she allowed herself some draught then for the first few years. Then she figured she was over him, emotionally at least, and didn't need any.

Perhaps she shouldn't have stopped the draught. Now would be an excellent time to down a bottle. She felt extremes of emotions that she hadn't felt in years. She wanted Draco Malfoy and she wanted his baby. He'd seemed interested in the baby part, had almost coaxed her into it. She wasn't sure if the arrangement involved sex. That exhilarated her and terrified her. She'd barely saved herself from serious instability in the past. She didn't want to risk it again.

Draco would just have to get his heir the test tube way, or from someone else.

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I wanna know what you honestly think.


	7. If You Asked Me To

HUGE Author's Notes:

1. Please keep the tips/ questions/ corrections/ reviews coming. I have revisited the earlier chapters and edited a lot. Thanks to the great inputs from you guys, my story flows infinitely better! I have also added/ altered some details, like:

Band in the annual charity Spellbound; lead singer Shaylyn

Hermione wasn't wearing a kimono style dress on her date with Mettle, she was wearing a cheongsam-style dress. (Chinese; huge difference in style, but I didn't know it's name!) It may be an important correction because she may wear a kimono later, so didn't want to confuse you. (Really, have you worn one? It's way fun!)For a peek at the style I had in mind, (but in green brocade) please check this link after removing spaces: ancientmoods . com /products/DivineNatureSilkDress-626-339-.html

2. My apologies to those who read my chapter within an hour of it being posted. It's usually FULL of mistakes at the time, that I just don't catch till it goes live :(

3. I hope the Thanks/responses I sent for signed reviews reached the reviewers. I wish there was the feature where I could reply to the reviews without cluttering your mails or the A/N

4. Messages I'd like to send across to some fabulous anonymous reviewers are below. For those who'd like insight into my characters, please read. For those not interested, please skip down to the chapter title in bold.

Jillian: Thank you much! For reading and the very valid input-that will help improve my story line! I think Hermione has considered adopting, but wants to first try to physically bear a babe - biological clock and all. She's curious, wants to experience pregnancy, morning sickness, labor- all of that. She sees it as a mystery she'd ideally like not to miss out on. If that doesn't transpire in a year or two, she will adopt. You made me realize that Hermione would be a lot more vested in the lives of the children in the orphanages, than just collecting donations for them; So I ought to incorporate that in future chapters. :)

kingfroggy24: Awe King, you are too kind! … I am trying, though I know I err. I will definitely not be able to do justice to Ron, Fred or George; their sarcastic sense of humor in cannon is fabulous. I'd rather save all mustered humor for Draco :) About chapter endings; (Grins) thanks for noticing, I do try to end them on a decent note.

Daisy: LOL, thanks girl! Well, there is chemistry between them, and there is friendship. But will it be enough? There is lots to overcome. Though something in Hermione's favor, I abhor sad endings :)

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**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

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**If You Asked Me To**

Christmas and New Year's were a time of joy and remembrance for all. Family and friends flooed, apparated, flew, barged and were welcomed cheerfully into the reconstructed and expanded Burrow. Hermione had spent Christmas Eve with her family and come over in the afternoon for a while to be amongst friends. They got owls and gifts from Draco but he was himself absent, spending Christmas with his mother and relatives in France.

Hermione planned to spend New Year's Eve at the burrow, which promised to be as entertaining an event as all before, thanks in part to the magical/technological advances that Fred and George made in their fireworks line with each passing year. Every New Year's eve, they showcased a spellbinding display that awed and confounded the spectators. In fact, it became quite famous. Wizards from the whole town gathered in a park close to the Burrow to watch, without having to gatecrash the Weasely party. Had Molly known of this, she would have gladly invited the lot of them… which was why the rest of the family carefully shielded her from such knowledge, and themselves from the drudgery of cooking for and cleaning after the whole town. They themselves were quite enough, thank you.

Afraid that Liliana might get scared of the noise, Ginny put her to sleep in Leila's (Fred and Alicia's 2-year old daughter) soundproofed nursery. This way, no noise could go in, but Liliana's voice would be amplified to reach the adults, if she cried.

The pyrotechnic extravaganza did not disappoint. Rather ingeniously, the brothers had found a way to transpose memories into glowing and crackling holographic images. There was an image of Fred and George being chased by Molly Weasely, who waved a rolling pin in her hand. Then there was one of Mr. Weasely tinkering with a car and then Harry and Ron crashing it into a flaming Whomping Willow. There was one of Charlie chasing a dragon, one of a dragon chasing Charlie. The twin's wives, Alicia and the Irish beauty Brigit, were shown looking their most gorgeous, in their wedding gowns and then little sparkling wheels emerged from their mid regions, turning into Ryan and Ciara (George's twins with Brigit) and Robert and Leila (from Alicia) and then the whole sky erupted in joyous fireworks.

Everyone in the family was thus represented. Even Draco's aristocratic features and Hermione's livid face made an appearance, throwing all manner of things at each other. That fight was truthfully depicted with Hermione emptying the contents of a vase on Draco's head- who was left standing with a sopping wet head strewn with daisies and leaves. The fireworks ended with a dedication to their youngest niece. The sky bloomed with Lilies and little Liliana's beautiful features were embossed into the ethers, laughing with James, Ginny and Harry, and finally turning over as if to sleep. As the clock struck 12, the finale burst forth with a cacophony of sounds and a rainbow of colors strewn across the inky sky. The spectators oohed and aahed, infinitely awestruck.

The silence was greeted by a burst of applause for the resourceful twins and then the gathered turned to hug and wish each other. Hermione was just about to head back into the house with the rest of the party when she heard a drawl right behind her that made her heart jump and her tummy flutter with fireworks all her own. "8 years of memories and the twins chose to showcase that one to the entire village? I'll have to remind the insolent ingrates precisely who has been financing their nefarious experiments, since they razed their last factory to the ground."

Hermione slowly turned around to see the cause of her restive nights look fresh and downright edible in his black sweater and gray casual trousers. He came forward and hugged her as she returned the greetings with mild awkwardness. "C'mon Granger, you can do better than that. Especially after that embarrassing image you provided for all to see." He kissed her soundly on the lips, a liberty he had stolen at New Year's Eves before. He then walked away to greet the gathered friends and acquaintances. Hermione lost sight of him and headed back to the house. Before she could enter the door, she felt a hand snake around her waist and pull her away. Draco led her towards the pond where they had all spent many hours, swimming and whiling away scorching summers.

"So where do you stand with our arrangement Hermione? Are we proceeding towards a mutually fulfilling plan or are you too much of a coward?" He had an eyebrow delicately raised in question.

He just _had _to have said that in an attempt to rile her, he just did! She was amused that he seemed to be pushing her buttons into accepting his proposal. Little did he know, he could've saved himself the effort. She'd been biting nails, anxious that he would concede to the many blunders in judgment. It seemed he was still plagued with the lunacy that had prompted him in the first place. Well, who was she to complain?

"I need you to be absolutely sure." She looked at him calmly, businesslike, impassive.

"I am." His face was relaxed as he stroked his thumb over her lips.

"All right then, I'll contact a fertility clinic tomorrow and will let you know when we need your, err… contribution." The tingling in her lips subsided as he brought his hand back to his side.

"You what?" he looked confused for a second and then his face turned into a frigid mask the next.

"You will do no such thing Granger. We are making our baby the old fashioned way."

And there went her heart… drowning _glurb blurb… whoosh_.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me Granger. My _contribution_ is not going to be stored in a cauldron or glass receptacle of any kind. And our baby is definitely not being conceived in a test tube. Not if we can help it. We will try the normal way first and if we fail, then, and then _only_, will we turn to muggle mojo."

"Draco, that wasn't part of the plan. I refuse to accept these terms."

"I wonder if the lady doth protest too much. What precisely is your objection to a perfectly reasonable, mutually fulfilling plan? We are two attractive, healthy and logical individuals. Explain why we shouldn't enjoy ourselves in the process. Why should it have to be cold and clinical if we can succeed in a manner that promises to be warm and pleasurable?"

Had there been enough light, he'd have seen her getting flushed from head to toe.

"Draco this will be complex enough as is. Let's not complicate it further."

He looked at her in cold contempt. "How do you mean?"

"If we do this the clinical way, we do not owe each other anything physically or emotionally. The boundaries remain intact. If sex comes into the picture, that changes things. It always does. Besides, you lose all interest in women once you've slept with them, in a day or in a month… you know it. I can't sleep with a man that I _know_ will be sleeping with someone else the next night. I'm just not made that way."

"What if we added a faithfulness and time clause to the agreement?" Now he looked like he was calculating equations in his head.

"I'm listening, though it sounds as loony as all your ideas thus far!"

"For the next year, neither of us can have sex with anyone else. That protects me from wondering if the baby's really mine and prevents you from running away for fear of infidelity. We try to get pregnant by next New Year's Eve. If we fail, we resort to the muggle way and our old life-styles."

"Draco can you even live like that? When was the last time you practiced monogamy?"

"Been a while, I admit, but never had much reason. Now I will. Besides you keep me entertained and on my toes Granger. I doubt I'll get bored with you anytime soon. However, for my health and sanity's sake, Potter and Weasley can't know that we are despoiling your nobility by planning a baby out of wedlock. They'll fight over who gets to decapitate me, serve my head on a platter so the Weasely women can dice it, and then the other Weasely men will stamp all over it. And _then_ they'll ALL lecture me. So, your friends… Can. Not. Know. No one can, till I say it's fine. Is that clear and acceptable to you?"

Truth be told, Hermione had been dreading that conversation anyway. Hell, she'd be happy to never tell her friends that she was bearing Draco's child. If their planned baby was not born with prevalent Malfoy physical traits, she might even try to get away with a fertility-clinic fib! So, she easily nodded her consent.

He looked at her speculatively. "Will that plan hinder any potential relationships that you envision blossoming over the next few months?"

Hermione chuckled. Between her 3 jobs, family and friends, she rarely found time to date. Even when some bloke was brave enough to approach her, despite the intimidation she seemed to inspire, she found the poor chap lacking… lacking in baby-fine hair, moon-over-water eyes, and the razor sharp sarcasm that she had learned to enjoy.

No, Hermione did not see any relationship being impeded because of the sex factor, except for their own. But then she remembered Ginny's mantra_. If not now, when?_ And why ever not? She was sure after the year and the baby, they'd go separate ways, leaving her to pick up the pieces of a very secretly, very shattered heart. But what was the alternative? This way she'd at least get to live out a dream for a year. She would make memories to last her a lifetime… and a baby. His baby.

The Gods had offered her the next best thing to Draco falling in love with her. She dared not defy their generosity. That would be ungrateful. Not to mention, plain stupid.

"Merlin Granger! If you have to think so hard about it, maybe you should just procreate with the bloke that's causing you such qualms!"

"There is no bloke Malfoy. But I have to tell you, if we end up hating each other at the end of the year, I'm assigning all responsibility for spoiling our camaraderie on your chipped shoulders."

The mask dropped, his eyes softened. "I couldn't hate you Hermione, not easily anyway. Been there, done that, prefer liking you infinitely more. Come now, let's not be gone too long and give your side-kicks any cause for suspicion." He took her hand and they started slowly towards the house.

"Not so fast Malfoy! I need more specifics. We need to plan and prepare for this. I will draw up an agreement with rules of conduct that we have to abide by, for the year and thereafter. A contract, if you so please. You are an immitigable arse and you can imagine why I need that assurance."

"As you please Granger, take your time to get that sorted. As long as you understand that we start our year today."

She looked up at him, surprised, butterflies, nay dragons, assaulting her abdominal insides. "Today?"

"I go home with you tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Tonight."

She could barely rasp out a flabbergasted "Why?"

Draco cupped her face with one hand, holding her eyes with his intense, determined and full-moon eyes. "Because I've been dreaming of your captivating curves in that alluring dress ever since that night. Because I have been unable to distract myself from thoughts of sinking into you. Becauseyou asked for a month and I've given it to you. I'm done waiting. I want you now."

Hermione felt her knees go weak. She could have sank into the grass, gotten up, jumped with joy and danced a luau! His words excited her body, enthralled her mind and embalmed her soul. Something nagged her though, and she couldn't help but reassert her ego's place in the interaction.

"Are you giving me a choice Malfoy, or are you telling me this is how it is?"

"You always have a choice Granger. You may recant the moment you chose. So can I. However, I'm also telling you how it is. I want you and have no shame in claiming so. If you didn't want me, that would be an issue. Since I am who I am, and you could not help but desire me, we don't have one." He smirked proudly at his logic, grabbed her hand, pulled her towards him and gently placed his cool lips on her.

His lips weren't the least like she'd expected them to be. They were luscious, soft and mind-numbingly gentle as they explored hers. They seemed to whisper to her soul like the gentle night breeze whispered to her skin… secret, sensual promises. She found herself pressing closer to him and her hands going up into his baby-soft hair. She felt her knees weaken as his tongue touched her lips, and entered her mouth slowly, deliberately. Her eyes were closed, yet she saw a brilliant bright light that had to be her nerves firing from the sensual assault. Yes, Hermione Jane Granger was deliriously happy and undeniably horny!

Slowly he drew back, looked down gently at her and smiled, "See, no issue at all."


	8. Tonight

To my reviewers for Ch7 ;) LOL, Guys, your reviews were so much fun!! You had me grinning ear to ear. On a particularly stressful workday, I managed to go online during my lunch to check for reviews, and then the day got massively better! Thank you so! Your reviews mean more than I could _EVER _express. Still grinning!

This chapter dedicted to my regular reviewers… you know who you are, you awesome people you! A special shout out to Lion3ss cos she's reviewed EVERY SINGLE chapter! Cookies and cake for everyone, second servings for those who've marked the story for update alerts and in their favorites. Oh, and fruits for the health-conscious!

So here's my very first lemon. M warning. If you are underage or don't want to read it, please skip to the next chapter, uh, well I'll post that next week. Psst… I don't know if it falls into MA. So if it does, someone let me know? I've seen this level here, so I figured it's okay. It takes guts to write lemons, i just discovered!

I've decided Draco speaks french to Hermione when he's particularly enamoured. Considering I dont know a word of French, it's a little inconvenient. i actually got these phrases from an online Eng- french dictionary. So all you French-speakers out there, if you see anything that doesn't make sense, please lemme know!!

From now on, I'll try and post one chapter a week. I'd pre-written the chapters so far, along with the last 2 chapters. Now I have to fill in the blanks with the REAL story :) The story gets more dramatic, so let me know if I go over board with the emotions!

* * *

**From Ch 7**

"I go home with you tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Tonight."

She could barely rasp out a flabbergasted "Why?"

"Because I've been dreaming of your captivating curves in that alluring dress ever since that night. Because I have been unable to distract myself from thoughts of sinking into you. Becauseyou asked for a month and I've given it to you. I'm done waiting. I want you now."

"Are you giving me a choice Malfoy, or are you telling me this is how it is?"

"You always have a choice Granger. You may recant the moment you chose. So can I. However, I'm also telling you how it is. I want you and have no shame in claiming so. If you didn't want me, that would be an issue. Since I am who I am, and you could not help but desire me, we don't have one." He smirked proudly at his logic, grabbed her hand, pulled her towards him and gently placed his cool lips on her.

His lips weren't the least like she'd expected them to be. They were luscious, soft and mind-numbingly gentle as they explored hers. They seemed to whisper to her soul like the gentle night breeze whispered to her skin… secret, sensual promises. She found herself pressing closer to him and her hands going up into his baby-soft hair. She felt her knees weaken as his tongue touched her lips, and entered her mouth slowly, deliberately. Her eyes were closed, yet she saw a brilliant bright light that had to be her nerves firing from the sensual assault. Yes, Hermione Jane Granger was deliriously happy and undeniably horny!

Slowly he drew back, looked down gently at her and smiled, "See, no issue at all."

* * *

0000000000

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**Tonight**

The celebrations thereafter seemed to go by in warped phases of time. At times, it was a blur and Hermione had no idea where an hour went. At times it dragged into the slow motion effects of Hollywood productions. It didn't help that Ginny kept throwing her knowing glances and half smiles.

"Ok, out with it, what's amusing you?"

"You tell me Hermione. Why exactly were you and Draco outside alone for ages, walking by the lake in the moonlight? What is going on Mione, you could cut the tension between you two with a knife! Come on, spill."

"Nothing is going on Ginny, don't be daft! We were out talking, as friends are sometimes known to do. And the tension you sense is not sexual, it's frustration. That man knows how to get on my last nerves. I'd spent 10 minutes alone in his overly sarcastic company and was paying the price of such foolhardiness."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Are you quite sure?"

Hermione threw her hands up in the air. "Earth to Ginny! Me muggleborn, he Malfoy. Me S.P.E.W. founder, he elf-torturer. Me book worm, he quidditch star. I intelligent, he lamentably dim-witted. I halfway decent, he abominable jerk. No equation. At all. Ever. See?"

Ginny sighed, "Okay, never mind then. See that dream boat there? That's Brigit's cousin. He's an expert on Gaelic studies and offers consultations to various countries' ministries on Gaelic magic, mythology and history. Currently, he's working on a project with Gringotts, though he keeps the details hush-hush, according to Brigit. Come, let me introduce you."

Even if Hermione could have refused this blatant attempt to hook her up with the handsome brunette, she couldn't pass the opportunity to chat about Celtic folklore and history. She found the subject fascinating. But then, this was Hermione Granger and we are hard-pressed to find a subject that did not fascinate her chronically curious mind.

Brian did not disappoint Hermione's expectations. They conversed for a while on various topics, ranging from Celtic rituals, spells, potions and music to the policies of the Department of History and Culture. Hermione didn't notice the gray eyes aiming daggers at her back.

--oOo--

Tidying up had never seemed to grate on Hermione's nerves before. She found herself all in a flutter. She both desired and dreaded what was to come next. Hermione Granger, MS Iron-balls at the ministry, MS Indefatigable at work, MS Incisive in her opinion column and MS Irrefutable in her arguments in wizengamot hearings was MS Insecure about Draco. Of not being good enough to keep his interest. She knew that if he got bored of her in the first week, as he did with most of his flames, there would be little left in her to salvage. She would, almost without doubt, lose her sanity, if only for a short while.

It was no secret that Draco liked sex. He seemed to like it almost as much as he liked food. More perhaps, if one went by his reputation. Draco himself had a physique that could put muggle models to shame… Hermione had covertly observed, the few times he changed out of his quidditch clothes in front of her. Back at Grimmauld place, he had been recuperating from a near-fatal injury but even then Hermione had to control her baser instincts when she helped change his bandages every day that week. For practical purposes, he'd gone without a shirt for the duration. A permanent blush had graced her face and neck, much to his amusement. When he slept, Hermione had to almost tie her hands behind herself to deny the traitorous impulse of feeling his sculpted chest and arms.

One morning, she'd found herself lying in his small bed, with her arm around him. She had apparently sleepwalked over from the chair next to his bed. She'd woken up to mocking, mercury eyes looking down on her in amusement; she'd snapped to reality, jumped off the bed and walked out the door without a backward glance. Amazingly, Draco hadn't teased her about it. He had aberrantly let it go, further cementing their truce. The foundations of a strong camaraderie had borne roots that week. However, Hermione didn't sleep in his room again. She figured he'd recuperated plenty.

Over the years, Hermione schooled her mind into submission so she didn't fancy herself in love with him anymore. She reckoned she felt deep affection for him, as she did for all her friends. Her lust for him was just… well, just her recognizing and appreciating a beautiful piece of art. She liked to see it, would like to take it home and hang it on her wall, but it didn't mean that she could like no other painting in her life thereafter.

Now that she had the opportunity to actually take this art home, she was… excited and nervous. Would it suit the wall colors? Or would it clash horribly with her existing décor?

"What are you mumbling about Hermes? Clash with the décor? Are you finally getting new curtains?" Ginny looked at her bemused while casting a spell to dry the dishes that Hermione has been rinsing.

Hermione looked at her shocked, she'd mumbled the last part out loud, as she was prone to do when stressed. "Nah, art for the walls. I like a painting but it may clash with my wall color. I'm wondering if it's worth the price."

Before Ginny could ask further about the lies that Hermione felt just a little guilty about weaving, Draco walked up to them to Hermione's relief and trepidation.

"If you have disinfected the dishes enough, I believe your husband is looking for you, Potter. He's got a sleeping James and Liliana to carry home."

Ginny said a quick spell and the clean dishes flew away to their cabinets, wished them goodnight and found her way quickly to her family. Hermione started to put away the other things that she saw out of place but Draco smirked and made her pause. "Quit stalling Granger. The many Weasely wives are perfectly able to clear up the rest with a few simple spells. We're leaving now."

Hermione caught her breath at his possessive tone. She wiped her hands and looked at him, square into his gorgeous now-almost-charcoal eyes. "You're sure you are up to this?"

In response he just clasped her hand again and put it on his pants! She felt the hard length of him, which he seemed to be concealing with a charm. She blushed red and jerked her hand away; looking around to make sure no one had seen anything. They were behind the island table in the kitchen so no one would have witnessed it, even had they looked their way. She noticed it excited her.

"Granger, let's go, or I'm not responsible for what's to follow. I would take you against the kitchen table, right now, if there weren't a million Weasely eyes scattered around. Besides, I'd like something a little slower for our first time. I've wanted you long enough. Tonight I plan to enjoy you."

Draco let that sink in before continuing, "I'm giving you a head start, to take care of whatever you need to. I'll meet you in your bedroom in 15 minutes. You won't be leaving it till the morning, Comprenez amante?"

Hermione blushed again; she seemed to be doing a lot of that tonight. She felt shy. Super horny, but incredibly shy. Like her, he'd thought ahead and figured they should leave at separate times to arouse minimum suspicion, she was grateful for the head start. She said her adieus.

Once home, Hermione rushed to get ready. She ran to her closet to take out a black chiffon chemise that Ginny had bought her as a birthday gift last year, "Hopefully you'll put it to good use!" She'd used it during many 'Unmentionable fantasies of Draco Malfoy' as she called them, and figured now could be considered 'good use'. She rushed to her bathroom, ensuring she locked it behind her in case she ran out of time and he got impatient. She quickly brushed her teeth, vanished body hair with a depilatory charm and changed into the gossamer chemise and black thong. She cast a Scourgify to cast off any BO and checked herself in the mirror. Hermione was in excellent shape, if a little on the skinny side. She dabbed a drop of perfume behind her ear and on her thong and braved herself to go out.

She opened the bathroom door to see that the bedroom's lamps were off. Instead, Draco had transfigured and lit over a dozen candles all over the room. He sat lounging in her bed, presumably disrobed, with her comforter over his waist and legs. Her breath caught at how good he looked; his chiseled chest glowed in the warm light, his hair shone golden and his eyes… the intensity there held her captive. He had been looking at her with naked fascination. His gaze traveled down her body slowly, lingering over her protruding nipples and thong. After they had journeyed all the way down her long legs, they made a returned all the way back to her eyes.

"Hermione"

She understood the command and request, and walked over to his side of the bed as Draco looked at her with lazy, lust-filled eyes.

"Take that off for me Granger. Please."

Hermione looked down at him, caught off-guard.

"I can easily dominate tonight's proceedings Hermione, but I want to take things at your pace, hand you the controls. I want you to know how much power you have over me."

Hermione slid off one strap from her shoulder slowly, and then the other. She lowered the chemise so her breasts fell free from the gentle veil. Hermione shimmied out of the chemise, though she was too shy to take off the thong just yet. Stripping for him had proved to be sensuous enough to get her insides knotted up. Draco held out his hand and tugged at her so she climbed over him, straddling him. She could feel the hardness of him under the comforter, and it empowered her. Draco Malfoy wanted her, she found liked that. She touched his sinewy muscles with feather-soft touches and thrilled in exquisiteness of his quidditch-hardened body. Draco raised his hands to cup her face and tucked some hair behind her ear. His fingers followed down to her nape and then slowly down the front of her neck to her breast. His hand cupped and lifted her right breast and she sighed. His touch was heavenly, soothing and fiery at once.

He moved up against her, pressing into her through the sheets and suddenly Hermione needed to feel all of him, next to all of her. She slowly lay down next to him, lifted the covers and caught her breath. The specifics of the male anatomy had never inspired awe in her before. It was a tool, a means to an end. But Draco was magnificent and graceful, though she had never equated male nether regions as graceful before. That was Draco for you, royal to the last cell.

Draco shimmied down to lie on his left side, beside her and gave her a tight hug. He trailed butterfly kisses around her eyes and cheeks and Hermione felt her body rise to meet him. His lips played gently with hers first, then suddenly his energies seemed to shift and they got demanding. His hand moved down to firmly cup her breast and his thumb played with her right nipple till a moan escaped her lips. He stole his lips away form her, bit and licked down her nape and played havoc with her nerves, whilst his hand was still kneading her breast.

Then Draco took her left breast in his mouth, and Hermione saw her dreams as if come to life. She looked down in wonder as he worshipped her breasts with his mouth. She would never forget the erotic image. Though soon she was distracted with a wonder of another kind, for his hand had moved further south. It hovered around her navel for a few moments and then trailed down to the crotch of her thong. Through the satin of her panty, Draco rubbed gently a few times. Hermione couldn't keep still, her body rose to meet his hands on it's own volition. His hand then found the wetness around her, gently pushing his finger inside her, through the satin.

"Draco." Hermione sighed his name, in want and need. "Please?" She raised her body again, to meet his body so skin touched skin, breast touched chest and thigh touched thigh.

"Pas de chance, rien à faire. We have a long way to go."

He took advantage of her raised pelvis to slowly pull off her thong. He lowered it to around her ankles, lowering his face following the thong's progress down her thighs, legs and ankles. He pulled it off and threw it away. His lips found her ankles and made their way up. He gently parted her legs, joined in shyness, and found the insides of her thigh. "You're so incredibly soft Hermione. So incredibly beautiful. How the fuck did it take us so long to get here? We should have done this years ago."

Hermione jerked her head up in surprise, her eyes suddenly wide open as she stared at him.

He looked up at her, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "What? Like you didn't know there was this unexplored lust between us."

Hermione felt her heart explode with joy. "I didn't! If I had, we _would _have done this years ago."

"I'm glad we finally saw sense. Now, shh… I need to focus." With that Draco focused on her, like she had never been focused on before. He licked her sensitive nub. Hermione thrashed around at the sensations he enticed till he finally used his hands to hold her thighs apart and raise her knees so he could have better access into her secret folds. Draco used a finger to separate the folds that shielded her and lathed her with his tongue, slowly, covering all her sensitive spots with mind-numbing precision. She had never, ever, ever, in her naughtiest fantasies imagined that sex with Draco would feel this good. She had always imagined it fierce, hard and fast… thinking that would be his style. She hadn't credited him with the tender, patient adoration he was exhibiting. She couldn't help it, she felt her pelvis tilt up to give him deeper access and he used it to penetrate her with his tongue. Hermione felt her heart flutter and her muscles contract.

"Draco PLEASE?"

"Not close enough yet Granger. Not close enough."

Draco was still licking away her juices when she felt his finger insert into her and she cried out. She removed her hands from his hair, afraid she'd yank them out, and clutched at his shoulder instead, feeling her nails sink into his skin.

Very gently he moved his finger in and out, and she lost contact with all else. Right now, this was the only reality she knew. She didn't understand it, but she could experience it, earth-shatteringly so, so she basked in it. Draco's finger explored her insides for a minute and then she felt another finger go in, as his tongue found her nub again. The sensations were too much for Hermione to take now, she grasped his hair and gently yanked his face up.

"Draco, I'll go mad. I… need you."

Smoky eyes burst into flames at that and Draco rolled them over so she was on top. "There you go then Granger, I'm all yours. Do with me as you please, but be gentle, ok?"

They both grinned at his idiocy and Hermione positioned herself over him. They held each other's eyes when she lowered onto him, and he let out a groan. She found that she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. Draco's gaze was too intense, he was watching her too brazenly and suddenly, she felt a little shy again.

"Hermione, look at me."

Hermione opened her eyes to look back at him and this time didn't look away.

"Granger, you feel so good! I could lose myself in you right now, you have no idea what it's taking, not to lose control."

She moved over him and saw his eyes go bleak, as he went somewhere far away. She was only alive at the places their bodies met… him in her, his hands on her breast, his thumb on her nub, her hand on his chest. She moved in the rhythm their bodies seemed to find and soon felt herself break out in the perspiration that she knew was a sign that her peak wasn't far away. Hermione felt an electric impulse pass all the way from her center, up her spine to her head. Her energies seemed to spiral out of control. The candles in the room started to flicker in the tempo of their breaths. Draco sensed her urgency.

"Je suis désolé, ma chérie, I can't wait anymore, or _I'll _go mad." He thrust hard, and went in so deep that she gasped. He waited for a moment to let her adjust, grabbed her bottom and pushed it together so she became even tighter. Hermione reveled in the increased intensity of the sensations, and soon was lost- grasping for that pinnacle, almost there, and then reaching it; tremors zinging her body; shockwaves going up to her brain. And then she heard Draco taking a deep breath and just holding it, forever, she opened her eyes to see him thrashing his head, as if in pain, and then felt his body shudder his release into her, felt the contractions and release in him as his juices mixed with her own. He opened his eyes as the last of him emptied into her. Their gazes locked and Hermione felt herself shuddering again, small, glorious quivers that reached her soul. She fell limp against him. Drained, replete.

He soothed her, holding her head against his chest. Hermione heard his heartbeat as she felt her own slow down. (Proof that he has one, she thought inanely to herself and grinned.) He rolled them around so she lay on her side, facing him, a sigh escaping her as she felt him leave her insides. He brought his hand up to her face and played with her hair, tucking them behind her ear. Neither said a word. There wasn't any energy left to talk.

He hugged her close, pulled the covers over them, cast a wordless charm to extinguish the candles and they both fell into a sleep deep, serene and content.

oOo

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If you liked it, please review. If you didn't like it, please review and tell me why.


	9. Morning

Disclaimer: Characters and World belong to JKR.

A/N: Thank you to these awesome reviewers: Tandy, Jess, Simkey, x Dramione4Lyf x, nathy7, avonstars, Okikuchan, Li0n3ss, tarockets1, HarryPGinnyW4eva, dream-catcher angel9 and Dianna. You really DO put joy in my heart with every review. I feel like I've become a part of a very fun, very endearing community and love exchanging our little notes. It's my haven at the end of a crazy day. Or my escape plan on my days off. When I say this I really mean it- THANK YOU all for the adorable part of my life that you have become.

Special mention for Jess - who helped me learn the difference between autocratic and aristocratic :)

To everyone who has added me/ the story as a favorite, and for all those who have added alerts for updates, I am humbled. I hope I can continue to live up to everyone's expectations. Especially since I'd hit a writer's block! I started this chapter one way and completely revamped it two days ago. Which leads me to think I may not be able to stick to one chapter a week. Life has taken some bizarre twists leaving me a little pre-occupied. The good news is chapter 10 is coming along well.

There isn't much plot-wise in this chapter, nor much romance or humor. This chapter does the important task of establishing the parameters of their relationship. It also gives some hints about the future. I don't know how it reads; I haven't obsessed over it as I did over the previous chapers. Do let me know?

Diagonally

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**Morning**

Hermione would have liked to say that she slept the most tranquil sleep that night, the clandestine romantic in her really would have. She would have expected to wake up to a perfect morning with an effervescent smile and spirit. But she hadn't accounted for herself.

Hermione was not used to sleeping with anyone else in the room. Never before had she fallen asleep with a man in bed. The last she had even shared a room had been a good 7 yrs ago- with Ginny at Grimmauld Place. Her nights had been unerringly restive there. Every time she'd heard a creak she'd jumped out of bed, wand in hand, afraid someone else had been injured, or worse, that Death Eaters had somehow found their way in. Hermione was jittery like that.

Then there had been the year of hunting for horcruxes with Harry, Ron and Draco. Laying of exhausted heads in tents and caves with _constant vigilance_ was not conducive to restful sleep. There had been many nights when the two keeping guard had hurriedly woken the others, and they'd escaped discovery or capture just in time.

As a result of her past, if in the middle of the night Hermione Granger heard unfamiliar noises, Hermione Granger woke up. So now, during her unsuspecting slumber when she felt an unfamiliar arm snake around her waist, she bolted out of bed, faster than the speed of thought, without even completely waking up first. And she analyzed it with pride, though a tad tired of her subconscious by now. The first few times Hermione sat up in bed, jarred awake by Draco's presence, he awoke too, looking around groggily. She hushed him to sleep and dozed off herself in a few minutes. When she violently thrashed his hand away and bolted out of bed, he opened one disgusted eye, harrumphed and turned around, presenting a disgruntled back. That was when she realized backs could be disgruntled.

Waiting for the adrenaline rush to pass, she turned on her night lamp to read, hoping to lull her overactive mind. He got out of bed, heavy-eyed and expressionless, grabbed his clothes and apparated away!

Still too content from the events before and too tired to adequately summon any offence, Hermione's logical side wondered how the hell she'd managed to sleep next to him in the hospital. Maybe she had been too emotionally exhausted, or maybe her mind hadn't considered that catnap 'sleeping'. How was this different from that night at the hospital? She fell asleep pondering over the different stimuli or lack there of in the two environments and the inconsistencies of her subconscious. Thankfully she didn't wake up again till much later that morning.

_Knock knock. Tap tap taptaptap. Knock. Knock._

"What in Merlin's name!" Hermione jumped out of bed once more, surprised at the knocking on her bedroom door. It was a very short list, the people allowed to apparate inside her apartment/ town house, one that didn't even include all of the Weaselys. It took her sluggish senses a few seconds to put it together.

"Give me a minute!"

She hastily put on a robe, tied her hair up in a messy bun and with a flick of her wand removed the reminders of last night from the bed, which now lay neatly made. She schooled her features and opened her bedroom door to the aroma of coffee, cinnamon rolls and a recently bathed Draco.

"Morning sunshine, did you sleep well?" He said this with mirth shining out of heart-stopping gorgeous eyes. Up close, in the morning light, his eyes revealed themselves to be an electric web of distinct white, gold and blue flecks. Sun and sky.

Had he not woken her looking this gorgeous and had he not brought breakfast, she may have been miffed with him for leaving the way he had last night, whatever the provocation. But he did and he had, so she smiled. "Good morning Draco. Yup, I slept so well in fact, that I hadn't realized you'd woken up and showered already. You must be super quiet. I usually wake up with the smallest sounds."

Draco looked stumped for a second, and then picked up a surprised Hermione, threw her on the bed, jumped right on top and started tickling her.

"Stop… _stop_… I give up." Hermione laughed out.

Draco stopped his teasing to pull back and stare into her mahogany eyes. He brought forth his lips to graze them softly against hers.

Gently tucking her willful hair behind her ears he spoke softly but with authority, "No regrets Granger, I don't want you to psychoanalyze this to oblivion."

"No, no regrets Malfoy."

"Good. In that case, can we please go get some fuel? I'm famished. Had the elves throw together a hamper, as I don't know my way about your kitchen."

"That, and you can't cook to save your life."

"Yes, that too."

Hermione grinned and got out of bed. She was glad the morning after hadn't been too awkward and they'd just fallen into their repartee. She went to freshen up. When she came out, she imagined Draco had headed down, but found him browsing in her study, picking out random titles from her fledgling library.

"So what does Draco Malfoy normally eat for breakfast? Little virgins?"

"Nah, that's strictly dinner. I start with lighter fare. Come along then, or I will be forced to eat you, again."

Draco looked amused at her flushed cheeks as they headed down. Hermione was surprised to see the array of delectable breakfast pastries, scones and breads set nicely on a beautiful china 3-tier platter. Steaming coffee (charmed to stay warm, no doubt) sat next to a plate of fruit, a jug of pumpkin juice, a bowl of fresh butter and yet another plate with a variety of cheeses.

"Umm Draco, is this how you eat breakfast everyday?"

"Yes, why? Don't you?"

Hermione looked askance at him, his eyebrow delicately raised in question and then realized he'd just avenged the restful sleep quip. "Ha ha."

He grinned back at her then and her heart fluttered again. She was touched that he'd gone through the trouble to carry all this over.

They both sat down to eat, and Hermione figured she'd just get the conversation over with. "I'm sorry about last night. I guess I'm not used to letting my guard down when I sleep." She didn't _have_ to reveal that he had been the first body to sleep in her bed. That was need-to-know only.

He looked over while buttering his multi-grain toast, "Don't worry. I didn't exactly help, leaving like that. I've just had some physically demanding days with little sleep and desperately needed the shut-eye. I realized the possible repercussions of the faux pas when I woke up. So got this hamper together as an inducement and hoped you hadn't set up wards against me already."

Hermione smiled softly at him. "I have no expectations from this arrangement Draco. You come and go as you please. Frankly I'm pleasantly surprised to see you."

"Surprised? Why?" He looked at her with curiosity, his eyes belying his attempt to piece her reaction together.

"Malfoy, you're breaking your own principles by being here. You know, the _can't see 'em the day- after _rule? The one you told me you uphold with all women? God forbid I get any ideas!"

Draco relaxed again into a lazy stance and smirked, "You quite well know you're not _all women. _Stop fishing for compliments."

"I'm just a little surprised with the speed of things I guess. You have to concede it's been rather fast. I'm also rather curious about something. What did you mean yesterday, when you said _we should have done this years ago_?"

Draco finally showed signs of lack of sleep, as he answered tiredly, "Granger, I told you last night, had I thought I could get away with it, I would have coaxed you into bed years ago. I didn't because you aren't the casual-fling type and I cannot guarantee a forever after. I didn't know how long we would last and I didn't want to compromise on our camaraderie. I certainly didn't want the entire Potter and Weasely clan hunting me down if things went unfriendly. Now it's different. I get to have you with a valid, consensual, mutually fulfilling raison d'être. And we get to not have a messy break up. We also do not have the pressure of announcing it to the tabloids and our insane acquaintances. It bodes well."

This was a good reminder to Hermione to take things at face value and not confuse the situation. This was not love, it was convenient baby-making protocol.

"Talking of break-ups Draco, I want you to know you have the option to leave at any time, before or after the baby. I will never ask you to stay. So you're right, it won't be messy."

He looked at her with carefully concealed expressions. "I appreciate that. I, however, cannot afford you that liberty. When you get pregnant, please consider yourself Malfoy property. I will be in the know of what you are eating, when you are sleeping, whom you are meeting, how many hours you are working… you get the general idea. You telling me voluntarily will be nice, if we lack your cooperation, you may notice wizards shadowing you, so you know not to mind them."

Hermione gasped at that, "You are mental, you know that?" she said this as she cleared away the plates and started to clean up.

"I'm honest. Well, not always, but I want to do you the honor. I cannot give this relationship the social credence it deserves. As of now, I cannot own to it without it posing some degree of danger to you or me. However, you are very much a part of my life now. I want you to know that."

Hermione thought of what he'd said. He'd mentioned danger. She wondered what quarters he meant that from, but he looked slightly uncomfortable in his skin, like he'd revealed too much of himself already. She realized it was all still new for Draco, they'd had a longer emotion-laden dialogue than in their 8 years of friendship. And he'd ended it by saying she was a part of his life now. That had a good ring to it.

She had to ask him one last thing though. "Your mother, how do you think she will react?"

He looked more open now, his body relaxing, "She'll be fine, thrilled with the prospect of a grandchild I assume, with the hints she tosses my way ever so often. Will your parents be receptive to you having a child out of wedlock though? I don't know about muggles, but it's almost unheard of in the wizarding world. Undoubtedly why the idea appeals even more to the non-conformist in me."

"They wont be thrilled, but like your mother, my parents will eventually be happy for me."

"Good. And we'll take on the others later. Talking of mothers, I have plans to meet mine for lunch in an hour or two. Don't know how I'll eat so soon though. Do you have any plans for today?"

"I usually visit W.I.C.H on alternate Sundays." War Inflicted Child Heroes was the war-orphans charity that was Hermione's brainchild. She hadn't wanted any child to term themselves 'orphan', she wanted them to chose more unique identities than that. And she wanted the children to blame the war, not the warring factions for their afflictions.

"Harry is meeting me there today. He visits them a couple of times a month too, usually on a weekend I'm not visiting. Today we thought we'd go together, since it's the 1st day of the year. He couldn't meet them at Christmas, so wants to get them some gifts now. You could join us later, if you like. The children adore it when you play quidditch with them. You put on a spectacular show, so I daresay you're more entertaining for them than Harry, who usually focuses on teaching them to play fairly."

"I would Granger, but I really did promise to meet mother for lunch. That's our New Year's tradition, more or less. However, I hesitate to leave you alone to dissect everything and second-guess yourself. Leaving you in Potter's company scarcely seems better. "

"I'll be fine, I promise. Won't run away, wont put up wards barring your entry. We have a plan, rest assured I intend to stick to it."

He squeezed her hand affectionately and bent forward to kiss her forehead. "Good girl. When do you get back?" Draco looked at her while stirring the cream and sugar into his 2nd mug of coffee.

"I usually spend a couple of hours. I'll probably be there 1 to 4 or so."

"So I'll pick you up at 6 for dinner." Draco said this in a tone that was quite matter of fact. That made her happy. They'd made love, the heavenly variety; he'd gone away to let them both sleep better and come back in the morning, laden with the most amazing breakfast. He wanted to meet her again tonight. She could live like this. Happily.

Over coffee, they made tentative plans, though Draco refused to give her specifics. He just said it was somewhere he'd always wanted to take her and told her to dress warm.

At around 11, he got ready to leave and kissed her deeply, which in turn delayed his trip by half an hour. Where last night had been slow and sensual, the morning had brought hurried disrobing, instant clearing of the kitchen counter, laughter and spontaneity. His skin shone like marble in the morning sun and she reveled in the tenderness she observed in his eyes. Periwinkle in rain. She understood for the first time how one could drown.

At about quarter to 12, with their clothes back on and him preparing for his departure, he hugged her, rested his forehead against hers and grazed her lips with his. She couldn't help but smile. He grinned back and saluted a goodbye as he flooed over to the manor from her living room.

Hermione hugged herself, happy, tickled and excited. She reckoned this was what girls meant by "walking on air". It certainly didn't feel like her feet touched the ground this morning. So this was why 'cloud 9' was such a popular destination. It certainly had its charms.

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**AN added Oct 15: My comp, had a trojan/ virus, and it went completely beserk. Sorry no update for a while :( The good news is, I have sent the next chapter to my awesome Beta and it is a whopping 12 pages long! Thank you for your patience!**


	10. The Sanctuary

**AN**: You cannot know how bad I feel that I haven't updated in so long. I did add in CH 9's Author's note that my computer had a Trojan/ virus. I was bereft without that access, I tell you! Here's 2 chapters to make it up (the one chapter became twice the length of my usual posts and my Beta also reccod a nice place to break it up for an easier read). The characters in this chapter just insisted on this time and space to be, say and do as they liked.

A gigantic Thank You to the awesome Dixie Charmer, who honors me by taking the time to vastly improve my chapters.

I also need to thank all of you for:

1 your patience with my absence

2 returning to the story

3 your very valuable suggestions and kind reviews

4 adding me to your alert/ favorite lists

Shout out to Jillian in this chapter, as she helped me realize that Hermione would be a lot more invested in the children's lives than just collecting donations. My heartfelt gratitude to the following reviewers for immeasurably brightening my days: Simkey, Okikuchan, fidens, x Dramione4Lyf x, dream-catcher angel9, dakato izumi, Li0n3ss, tarockets1, HarryPGinnyW4eva and nathy7. You guys rock and make me sooooooooooo happy! Evil Tobi - You reviewed almost every chapter, while reading it in one go! I know how tough that is! You don't seem that evil to me :)

Please leave reviews for both chappies? Else I regret posting two chappies together. If you don't like some parts, could you please tell me why?

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**The Sanctuary **

Harry and Hermione met at the W.I.C.H Ashram at noon, piled high with shrunk gifts for the children. Though the youngest wartime victims were now about 8 years old, other, younger children who had lost their parents to heartrending circumstances, found their way into the open arms of the Ashram staff. There were still dark witches and wizards that roamed the lands; Harry and the aurors were kept busy tracking and apprehending them. Unfortunately, the world wasn't rid of all evil and random tragedy, just one morally insane sociopath.

The heart-broken children found themselves counseled, protected and understood, if not always loved, in the walls of the sanctuary. An extensive property, donated by the Malfoys, the domicile was large enough to house an elemental school, a dormitory wing, a quidditch pitch, and a pond that the children used for swimming in the summer and ice-skating in the winter. Hermione had initially planned for a swimming pool, but Draco had vetoed that idea, stating that the natural environment of a pond was much more esthetically pleasing. There was also a playground with a variety of muggle swings ,jungle gyms, and climbing walls for children of all ages. Hermione had insisted on muggle games being incorporated into the Physical Education, to expose the children to the fun aspects of muggle culture at an early age. The quidditch field was often sectioned to serve as a cricket pitch, tennis courts or soccer field, to the delight of the 100 + residents.

Children mostly got along, but there were normal quarrels in the gender-divided dorm rooms… sibling rivalry squared to 100! With gentle disciplinary measures and counseling, most found a healthy balance. There had been older children in the first few years, too deeply indoctrinated in the teachings of their parents, to be able to see past their hate. Hermione remembered them well, they had almost discouraged her into thinking this was a horrific idea that would never work.

The angst-ridden group had lashed out in their anger and been drawn to conflicts habitually. Sometimes it was in vengeance, sometimes in defense, some times while 'looking out for their own'. In the short time they were home from school, there had been clashes and duels where they had fallen just shy of casting unforgivable spells. Draco knew how hostile minds worked and knew they would take Hermione's forgiveness for granted. On witnessing Hermione's constant worry over the situation, he had, in confidence, indicated a solution to an obliging Mr Homewood. The domiciles', considerate, but strict principal had to resort to a veiled ultimatum. He emphasized to the recalcitrant teenagers that if they hurt anyone accidentally, and were then kicked out from the home, they'd have nowhere to go, no food to eat and no place to rest. They might then be expelled from their respective schools too, and then they would have no education to support themselves for the rest of their lives. They would be dependant on the kindness of strangers.

The threat had been empty. Hermione would never have expelled a child from Ashram. Matter of fact, she would have been livid had she discovered that the conversation had even taken place. As far as she was concerned, taking the children in had been an inviolable agreement to shelter them, no matter what. Hermione didn't want another Tom Riddle. She wanted the angry ones under even closer supervision than the others. She wanted to provide them as much counseling, support and structure as possible, to help them be constructive rather than destructive. She also didn't want another Harry, subjected to the intolerance of wary muggles. So, no, she would have never turned out a resident, no matter how big the infraction of discipline.

To make up for the severe warning, Principal Homewood had displayed compassion in other ways. He appealed to their common sense to take responsibility for their almost adult lives. "We don't have to all like each other, but we must learn to coexist. We cannot afford to repeat the tragedies of the past. You cannot wish others to suffer the way you have. I implore you to rise above your past of 16 years, like a phoenix, and lead the rest of your 80 years into a life replete with success and peace. Don't forget, you have the biggest names in the wizarding world backing you right now! You can use that, make a place for yourself in the world, or squander this opportunity forever. Choose wisely. You have all my support if you are willing to try."

The tempers had toned down thereafter, and thankfully, the first few years had been the toughest. Once the older adolescents had come of age or graduated and left Ashram, the younger ones, with natures more resilient and scars less acute, had gotten along better.

Now, besides the normal disagreements of cohabiting children, the Ashram was as intended- a haven for all who had lost too much, too young. The children bonded in their tragedies and triumphs, found solace, comfort and friendship in the smallest of things and stood somewhat happy, healthy and loyal to each other. Mostly. Here they would form bonds that would last them a lifetime; Hermione took much comfort in that achievement.

The children looked forward to the visits by the war-heroes, they were thrilled to have the celebrities a part of their lives. The alumni of Hogwarts often regaled them with incredible stories, plied them with unexpected gifts and generously shared the most precious of their possessions, time. The children blossomed under the attention, their individual strengths highlighted and honed by the varying interests of the different adults.

Luna for example, showed up every couple of months and entertained them with different legends, spoke mysteriously of phenomena hitherto unheard of, and in a contradiction to her apparent eccentric self, impressed them with her latest magical inventions. The almost robotic machine that cleaned up rooms for them had been a big hit, as the underage children were not allowed to use magic. Neville, Luna's doting husband, brought magical plants that surprised the children. With the help of interested children, Neville had turned their garden into a landscape paradise, their vegetable-patch into a supply for homegrown produce and their greenhouse into a resource for endangered medicinal plants. Hagrid's contributions Hermione had to monitor more closely, lest he bring some parlous pet to 'cuddle', but the gentle giant and Fangs were dearly adored by the children, especially the younger ones.

Ron and Draco, both came and taught the children quidditch. They were sometimes accompanied by other quidditch celebrities, which was a treat welcomed with much jubilation. Ron also took the time to teach wizard',s chess to the younger children, archery and tracking skills to the older ones.

Draco advised the near-adults on financial matters, careers and investing wisely for the future. He also participated in and truth be told, initiated pranks that Hermione had yet to officially forgive him for. A classroom that chanted "Red Alert" whenever a Weasely entered had to be permanently locked, because no one had discovered a way to make it stop! She suspected Draco knew, but was too content with the situation to offer the solution. Just this year, on a day that Ron's visit had been expected, all the children's hair had turned long, shaggy, and red. She had thought it a prank from the Weasley twins till a 3-year-old Zara had exclaimed happily, "Dvaco made our hairs Ved. He made our eyes Bvue, see, see. Pvetty, pvetty!"

Fortunately, Ron had seen these as harmless compliments to his "handsome self" and laughed them off. These had been easier to forgive than the time 4 years ago, when during a friendly game of quidditch, the quaffle had started emanating a tune sounding suspiciously like "Weasley is our King", the song Draco had composed back in Hogwarts. Ron had had a conniption, and left to be with "more mature company" so Draco's team had won by default. The children on (and supporting) Ron's team had forgiven Draco when he organized a trip for everyone at Ashram to visit the muggle amusement park, Disneyland Paris.

Hermione had had to research a spell to bind all the children's magical abilities for a whole day! She'd got the idea off Charmed, a muggle TV show popular in the US, about 3 sisters who were witches. (Having refined the spell considerably, Hermione later found it helpful to prevent accidental use of underage magic, caused by the trauma that the children had endured.) The excursion had been a huge success; very enjoyable for the children and blessedly devoid of any disasters to agonize the supervising adults. It would perhaps be appropriate to point out, that Draco had adamantly refused to accompany the large group, lest he be thought of as _fun_ or Merlin forbid, _caring_! Instead, he sent some of his company's more reliable employees to help Ashrams' staff "shepherd the flock". He had an image to maintain. Letting the holier-than-Merlin Potter and Granger do the hard work, had worked quite satisfactorily for him in the past; he saw no rationale to deviate from norms.

Along with structure and strength for the children, Harry and Hermione embodied for the young ones, knowledge and wisdom, deep and inspiring, from both the muggle and wizarding worlds. They also brought ears for hearing woes, dependable shoulders for addressing situations and provided strong role models, akin to elder-siblings. The children at Ashram surrounded the two with affection and sought their advice; whether scholarly, professional or personal.

Ginny played the agony aunt, guiding gentle hearts through the predicament of adolescence. Molly was the mother hen and Arthur the indulging grandfather. Other Weasley family members, friends and Hogwart alumni such as the Patil twins, Cho Chang, Susan Bones, even Victor Krum also dropped by a couple of times a year, to entertain or inspire. Fleur Delacour was the favorite fashion diva, hands down. Even Hermione's parents contributed, with their dental care and compassionate view of world events. They came to Ashram and acquainted the children with the customs and norms of the different cultures in the muggle world and taught cricket and tennis. They delighted the children by bringing muggle movies and documentaries. Hermione had designated an outbuilding as "No magic allowed" area, where electrical gadgets managed to work with a little extra help. With the support of her family, friends and the generous donations from the wizard world, Hermione had thus created not just a haven but also an extended, if slightly dysfunctional, family for the children, a family that she and the children were much grateful for.

-0-

This January 1st afternoon, as Hermione and Harry entered the Great Common Room, children rushed over to meet them with cheerful greetings and lively chatter. Apparently, Fred and George had visited them a few days ago, leaving behind some of their famous fireworks with the elder, more responsible teens, to entertain the children at New Year's Eve.

"There was one that looked and felled just like snow, and when it touched our hands, it melted just like snow, and it was soooooo beautiful!' This was the contribution from the chatty, adorable 5-year-old Serena. Her wizard father had abandoned her unwed muggle mother when she had mentioned the pregnancy. Unable to support a magical child on her very limited muggle means and in an unforgiving muggle neighborhood, she had given up the one-year-old for adoption. When no one had stepped forth to adopt the baby from the desperate mother, officials at the Magical Family Welfare Program at the Ministry had requested Hermione to provide her a home at W.H.I.C.H. Thankfully, Serena seemed to bear no scars, emotional or physical, to interfere with her natural exuberance for life.

"There were some firecrackers that looked like you. Harry, you were all dressed up and dancing with one of the Patils, we couldn't tell which one. Ron kept falling off a broom, Hermione turned into a cat and Draco turned into a ferret! The twins have the wildest imagination!" Hermione and Harry just grinned, not enlightening the serious and studious 14-year-old Roberto that these events had, in fact, transpired.

Some of the children parted to let a graceful and regal Eva through, who approached them to confidently shake Harry's hand and lovingly hug Hermione. She was one of the older witches here, in her final year at Hogwarts where she had been chosen Head Girl. This was an ambition Hermione had been unable to fulfill, so she was especially gratified; both with Eva's achievement, and her own part in nourishing the girl from the day she had turned up outside Ashram's gate, completely obliviated of her memories. With an exemplary academic record, leadership qualities, affectionate nature and mature disposition, Eva was well respected and much liked. She was also a good guide for the younger children. Harry was confident she would easily be accepted into the Auror training program, as Eva aspired. As Hufflepuff, she made Susan Bones swell with pride.

"She's too smart to be a Hufflepuff. She fooled the cap I reckon, must be a Slytherin in lamb's clothing." That had been Draco's comment on hearing about Eva's sorting, all those years ago. Hermione had punched him in the arm and countered, "She is smart, no doubt, but she is even more fair and just, and that's why the hat sorted her into Hufflepuff. You wait and see, she'll make Helga proud enough to snuff the ego out of Salazar!"

Her words now rang prophetic. Tynen Mcblae had been the sole survivor of a family of pure-bloods that had remained neutral in the war. Like the Zabinis, the Mcblaes had disappeared when the Death Eater attacks had begun and resurfaced when the war was considered over. Perpetrators had killed his parents on the night of their homecoming, as a punishment for their lack of loyalty. Wisely, Tynen had been left behind with his aunt in Scotland, so he had stayed safe. When the aunt had passed away of old age, his young governess had deemed it most healthy for him to grow up with peers, under the careful tutelage of the Ashrams residential school, despite his substantial inheritance. She had taken the 8-year-old boy to the renowned sanctuary and asked him if he preferred this over his current home in Corona, the magical town where they resided. As Tynen had entered the beautiful, large complex of Ashram, the first two persons to greet him had been the warm MS Hermione and the welcoming Eva. Tynen had chosen to stay, never regretting his decision thereafter.

Ty, as his friends called him, had picked up many investment tips from Draco and had considerably added to his wealth by the time he was 16. Now, as the Slytherin quidditch captain at Hogwarts, he had opted to move into his own flat when he'd turned 17. It was common knowledge that the reigning prince of Slytherin had eyes just for the charming Eva. Eva had had no chance of resisting the gorgeous, intense, turquoise eyes, framed by the sleek raven-black hair. The simple but pretty, green-eyed, brown-haired Eva had the Slytherin wrapped around her capable little finger. In private only. The Slytherin in Tynen wouldn't let anyone witness such vulnerability; but smitten he still was, for all to see.

Salazar would be freezing on those flying pigs!

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Before you hit 'next' please hit 'submit review' and tell me what you think of the new characters and their home?


	11. The Redemption of Slytherin

AN: Not mine, JKR's. Thanks to my awesome Beta Dixie Charmer, who vastly improves my drabbles. Thank you to all who reviewed for chapter 10. (though haven't seen any yet... wassup with that guys? Go back and review Ch 10, c'mon, you can do it! You can, I know you!)

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**The Redemption of Slytherin**

Hermione was glad that house rivalries had mitigated over the years at the school and in Ashram. She remembered how long it had taken for her friends and her to transcend that barrier with Draco. Back at Grimmauld Place, Hermione had indulged in her own brand of thawing, but it had taken a particularly explosive conversation for Harry and Ron to realize that they were holding on to their own brand of prejudice.

-0-

FLASHBACK

Year seven dawned crimson on Hogwarts' skies. With Dumbledore gone, the school and the Order stood more vulnerable than ever. After much debate, the school was to open it's doors for the few willing families who were of the view that the school would be safer than their own homes, and that life should continue as normally as possible for the children. The protection charms that the founders had placed on the school had been augmented exponentially by Dumbledore's foresight. The blood of the headmaster, willingly spilled on school grounds had erected a whole new set of impenetrable wards and security measures. The Hogwarts staff and ministry aurors discovered more of these innovative defense features with each passing day. The ministry wanting to do its part had appointed many aurors for the schools' reopening, some of whom were inevitably Order members.

Harry, Hermione and Ron were to leave in search for the Horcruxes and Ginny was to stay at Hogwarts as overseer and spy. At least that's what they told her. She knew it was more for her protection than any cause noble. She couldn't apparate and knew that she would be an emotional responsibility if she were to accompany them, so she acquiesced to play her part, eventually.

One night, the trio had been up late in Harry and Ron's room in Grimmauld Place, discussing plans around a table strewn with maps. Bill and Fleur's impending nuptials were just two days away, and the three had decided to leave the night of the wedding. They were still hazy on where to start their search for the Horcruxes. The locket that Dumbledore had sacrificed his life for had turned out to be a fake, with a cryptic note that had helped them naught.

Hermione was pacing around, thinking out loud, "Let's think this through logically, R A B, R A B… it has to be someone who was close to Voldermort, and therefore presumably of pure-blood lineage. But no, Snape made it and he was half-blood. Ron, how many families can you think of…"

In the middle of her sentence, there was a knock on the door and Draco walked in without waiting for a reply. This stunned them. Thus far, they had maintained civility, especially in light of his actions recently, but they had never included Draco in their planning and he had never intruded. As soon as Ron saw Draco, he started rolling up their maps and clearing the table.

"Keep your pants on Weasely, I'm not here with the intent to spy on you to divulge your plans to your family or foes. I am however, here to offer you Potter, my assistance in the next phase of your plans. I doubt Hogwarts' most beloved trio is off to school next week and I doubt the new headmistress would accept me, even if I _could_ attend school. I find myself with two choices then; Embark on a perilous journey with you lot where I can be a distinctive asset, or stay here and help the Order in the limited capacity that they will allow me. I suspect I will be of more use to you, since you are obviously off to look for the Dark Lord's Horcruxes and I am fairly well acquainted with the Dark Arts, infinitely more than the pious threesome, I presume."

To say that they were surprised was an understatement. They looked askance at each other and processed the information in their own ways. While Hermione stood, clearly weighing the pros and cons of this development, Ron's face betrayed complete mistrust.

Harry projected a mask of neutrality; he was getting better at hiding his emotions. "How do you know about the Horcruxes, Malfoy?"

"You recall that I am Lucius Malfoy's son, Bellatrix Lestrange's nephew and Severus Snape's protégé? I also have an extensive library on books pertaining to all subjects Dark. I am not proud of all the associations, but I have learned from them. When my dear aunt Bella was imbibing in me the skills of occlumency, I was reading up on legilimency on the side, to protect myself against her and her adorable friends. One never knows when a little arsenal can come in handy. I picked up enough snippets from different minds to know that the Dark Lord had not turned into a freak overnight, that he'd actively pursued the path. It took me all of last year to put things together. Imagine my surprise when I heard dear Ronald mumbling about Horcruxes in his sleep, over a book in the Black library."

Ron looked shamefaced, turning red. Harry and Hermione looked perturbed, what if Ron had revealed something to someone else?

Not wanting to affront Draco, Harry politely refused, saying they would be fine and he'd be grateful if Draco stayed back to help the order. Draco looked at Harry for a few seconds, sans any expression and nodded curtly, turning to leave. Hermione spoke up at that moment. "Draco, if I ask you something, do you swear on your magic to not divulge it to another soul?"

Draco looked intrigued, "I do."

"Do the initials R.A.B. mean anything to you? A wizard or a witch come to mind?"

Ron and Harry gasped and looked at Hermione with looks that could easily maim, considering their combined magical abilities.

Draco realized this was a test and thought it through.

"The last name starts with a B. There are 3 prominent pure-blood families I can think of… my mother's family, the Blacks being one of them. The others are Bulstrode and Burke. I cannot immediately recall a member of the latter two families whose name starts with an R; but it could be Regulus Black, there were a number of individuals through the generations with that name. I'm uncertain about the middle name, but I believe it could be Sirius' younger brother."

Hermione jumped up and ran out from the room. Draco looked surprised, "What did I say? If I can have her disappear like that, I would say it more often."

Harry ran behind Hermione, "Ron, she's gone to check the Black family tree!"

Even though the tapestry didn't reveal Regulus' middle name, they were able to gain that knowledge from Orion Black's memoirs in the library. Regulus Arcturus Black was indeed Orion and Walburga Black's beloved son and Sirius' lost, younger brother. Draco had helped solve that piece of the puzzle. Hermione voted to let him come, submitting that Draco had the potential to make their search for the real locket and the other Horcruxes easier.

They had been discussing the merits and demerits of letting Draco accompany them, in the relative privacy of the library. Harry was non-committal whereas Ron raged in protest. "I know the git's been helpful recently. He saved Ginny and that makes him less of a reptile, but it still doesn't mean we can trust him."

As Draco deemed fit to do that day, he walked in on the argument. "I doubt you'll ever trust me Weasely, a favor I'll return, I assure you. But if you could make yourself rise above the bigotry you assiduously blame me for committing, you will see that in helping you lot, I have everything to gain. The Deranged Lord holds my family prisoner, my home hostage and my inheritance as his personal allowance. If you aren't willing to believe that I am in it for the good of the wizarding world, believe that I'm in it for the Malfoys. Whatever works for your one-dimensional Gryffindor brain."

Ron bristled at that, "Reminding me that you are a Malfoy and a Slytherin doesn't exactly inspire trust. It just makes me want to lock you in a cupboard and throw it into the Charles."

Draco calmly checked his nails, "Why, because I intimidate you?"

"No, because in my lifetime, I have yet to meet someone more self-serving than a Malfoy and more evil than a Slytherin!"

The more emotional Ron seemed to get, the cooler Draco got. "Oh, I don't know about that. I can name a couple of exceptions."

"Name one!" Ron challenged.

Draco looked at Harry calculatingly and said softly, "Peter Pettigrew."

When he saw he'd achieved the speechlessness he'd been angling for, he continued in his usual sarcastic drawl. "At least with my father and I, you always know where you stand. We don't need to stab you in the back. We brandish our daggers in front of your face, trying to edge it in every chance we get."

Ron seemed to get his spunk back then. Lest it be said that the Gryffindor knew when to back down. He was about to launch into another very loud invective when Harry laid a hand on his arm to quiet him.

Harry looked steadily at Draco, finally betraying the irritation he felt, "Convenient how it's always Slytherins brandishing daggers and wands every chance they get. Out of all the Death Eaters you know, how many are Slytherins and how many are from other houses?"

Draco sat down on a leather chair, looking like a parent who had the task of explaining something considerably intricate to a clueless child. "Potter, the Depraved Lord was a Slytherin. He had the chance to practice his charm on those in his vicinity for 7 years. His powers of coercion are legendary, unlike you, who can't even convince your best friend that you did not put your name in the Goblet of Fire. The Dominating Lord could and did coax, connive and coerce his peers to do his bidding. Of course he exploited the Slytherin trait of ambition and determination. Not everyone who has these traits is evil though, or your muggle-born friend here would be a ripe candidate for Death Eater recruitment; disregarding her lineage of course. You too have been known to be cunning, determined and callous about rules. By Salazar, you are even a parselmouth. Half the school is scared of you already. Are you the next dark wizard to beat all dark wizards?"

A memory flashed involuntarily in Harry's mind - the Sorting Hat contemplating assigning him into Slytherin. He thought of the two people he'd met from the wizarding world before that. Hagrid, who had been burnt by Riddle himself, and Ron in the train, whose father had been constantly plagued by the infamous Lucious Malfoy. He remembered their distaste for Slytherins and wondered fleetingly… if he had not been introduced to that prejudice, if he HAD allowed the hat to sort him into Slytherin, would he have turned evil? The resounding answer was NO. He'd have been miserable if there were no other like-minded people around, but not evil. This was an epiphany for Harry; the possibility of non- evil Slytherins.

Draco, the man of many words, most of them cutting, couldn't stop now. He vented the diatribe that had begged release since the moment Potter had rejected his offered hand and proffered friendship that first day at Hogwarts.

"So Tom Riddle had a band of followers in school that followed him out into the world. By the time he returned from whatever hell he'd reigned, vaguely human and predominantly a nefarious monster, his Slytherin peers were too scared or too smart to say no to him. Even if they hated the vile creature, they had to accept him as their Lord, because to shun him, even in the privacy of their homes could acquire their whole family a very pretty death. Siblings, spouses and friends have been known to turn truant Death Eaters in. So the Death Eaters stayed true, because self-preservation is another quality we Slytherins pride ourselves on. And now those Death Eaters have offspring, who have grown up knowing nothing but these norms and the retribution of desertion. So yes, there are Death Eaters from Slytherin house. Has it occurred to you that Slytherins don't have much choice? The rest of the houses aren't exactly begging us for our company, Potter. So we stick to our own. And we like that, because there are no illusions there. We know exactly where we stand with each other. Unlike you all, who pretend unwavering loyalty, fairness and wisdom, and as a result can't see the enemies in your cloyingly honeyed, off-your-rocker-idealist midst. Even right now there are spies in your flanks but you have no idea, do you? Everything is rainbows and butterflies in Gryffindor-land."

Harry lashed out in frustrated agony at the memory, "The only spy in our midst was Snape and the only one who trusted him paid with his life!"

"I always knew you were dim-witted Potter, I am now persuaded that you are beyond help. Everything is black and white to you. No shades of charcoal or pewter. Now that I know better, I know for sure that the team Snape played for a fool was the Demented Lord's, not yours. First, without knowing any better, he had to make an unbreakable promise to my mother to prevent me from killing Dumbledore. Then the poor sod had to make the same promise to Dumbledore. I now understand Dumbledore's brand of wisdom. I don't partake in it, but I value it. He knew that the most important pawn in the battle was Snape, with his access to the Dark Lord's plans. No one was more valuable to the Order's cause than Snape, not even Dumbledore. Mark my words, Snape's inside information supplied to your unbelieving ears will be the reason you'll ultimately defeat the Dark Lord. Hopefully you'll realize his value before Snape dies needlessly for you. Hate him all you want, but that man is by far braver and smarter than any bloody Gryffindor I know. No one else could've fooled the Dark Lord for so long. If you alienate him now, you'll be losing a man who has sacrificed his whole life for you ignorant fools. And you castigate him just because he isn't the type to kiss and make-up! No, the people you have to be wary of are far too well imbedded here, blending in with the general dispositional camouflage. And if you don't watch it, you'll be truly fried."

Harry was absorbing this and was quiet again, so Ron figured it would be a good time to resume. "You're fibbing!"

Draco turned his head to Ron now, "Sure I am. And the Dark Lord found out about the raid on Malfoy Manor because he has a herd of psychics on his team." He turned his head towards Hermione, rolling his eyes.

"Who is it then?" Harry demanded authoritatively.

"Your naiveté astounds me Potter. You think you'll ask and I'll. Just. Tell."

Hermione stepped in now, "Please don't bait him Draco!" "He doesn't know who, Harry. Voldermort doesn't disclose more than fragmented details of any operation to individuals, even if they are directly involved in it. But Draco did find out for sure that someone from the Order is passing that information, knowingly or inadvertently."

Harry turned to Hermione, "How did he find that, and how can we trust the source?"

"Harry, it was Snape. He left Draco a message at the manor. But we can't let anyone know that or they'll know that Snape is still… on our side. And that will definitely get Snape killed."

"Good riddance then, innit?" Ron mussed his hair by raking restless hands through it.

Hermione was getting increasingly cross with the thickheaded locking of horns, "Ronald! That Snape is on our side and was ordered by Dumbledore himself to… well, that's been established. Dumbledore, in his infinite wisdom firmly planted a spy in their camp, even in his death. Let's not waste all their sacrifices by endangering Professor Snape any further. He is a valuable resource to have in our enemies' midst." She turned to Draco with beseeching eyes, "Draco, could you please leave us alone for a while. I'll come and talk to you in your room."

Draco, having done enough damage for a day, left.

The trio once again weighed the pros and cons of taking him along. They had barely started trusting Draco, so him knowing about the Horcruxes was undesirable, to say the least. At least Draco hadn't mentioned anything to anyone else yet, hopefully. If he were spying for the Death Eaters, more Order members would have been hurt lately, but in reality, Draco was giving the Order valuable information and whereabouts of the Death Eaters. He had informed them that Voldermort's sycophants camped out at Malfoy Manor, even though the Dark Lord himself graced them with daily visits, not disclosing to anyone where he laid his ugly head at night. The Order had planned a raid on Malfoy Manor. Draco's insights on disarming the wards had helped the Aurors get in, but the Manor had been found empty, except for house elves, who had gone into hiding on Lucius' secret order. The Death Eaters had taken the imprisoned Malfoys with them and Draco's hope of rescuing his parents had failed. It had however, allowed him access to his room, the massive Malfoy library, and the house elves, who now answered to him as their master. Which wasn't much use, considering Draco couldn't stay there without endangering himself.

Hermione made Harry and Ron see the advantage of letting the Slytherin cunning mind accompany them on their quest and they finally conceded that his background as a Malfoy made him a good resource on the dark arts. Hermione went down to notify Draco to start packing for the next day. He didn't have much to pack.

Just as Hermione was about to leave his room she turned around, "Thank you for not revealing anything about the Horcruxes to anyone, Draco. I hope we all prove worthy of the trust we are placing in each other."

Draco nodded, his eyes devoid of all expressions, and she left. He had almost considered revealing something to her, but thankfully hadn't lost all his endearing personality traits yet. Draco had been perusing one of many tomes on the Dark Arts that he had retrieved from the Manor; sitting in an obscured corner of the Black library he had remained undetected when Ron had come in to do some research. After an hour or so, Ron had fallen asleep over the book, but he had not mumbled anything in sleep in anyone's proximity. Too tempted to resist, Draco had practiced some legilimency on the sleeping Ron, just for a few seconds… he had to keep in practice, he told himself. As soon as the word _Horcrux_ had popped up though, Draco had jumped back, felt the slightest compunction and walked away. He hadn't meant to pry for secrets. He'd just assumed Ron would be dreaming of Granger and food. Or both together.

After that day, Draco had mused much on his future. He knew about Horcruxes, the idea of eternal life had appealed to him one summer in his youth. Unknown to his parents, he'd researched it well in the massive Malfoy library. He had come across the word just once, but without any further leads on it, let it go. Though no one in Voldermort's immediate circle seemed to suspect that the lunatic had created Horcruxes, it made sense. Voldermort didn't trust even his closest followers with more than a few snippets of information. Snape must have been privy to Dumbledore's suspicion. It boggled Draco that the unfathomable headmaster had had no qualms in trusting a double agent with the most sensitive information, while he didn't tell his closest associates in the Order about it! Only after the head master's death had Draco begun to appreciate the complexities of the old man's brilliance. And he felt remorse for his part in the event. So he felt an inexplicable urge to redeem himself and his family's name.

Draco had no doubt that searching for the Horcruxes could be lethal, and he wasn't too keen to depart for the afterlife in haste. But when all his peers went back to school or on a mission, however foolhardy, Draco would be left alone at Grimmauld place amongst blathering old fools. The werewolf was the only one he could have a decent conversation with, and had Lucius heard of it, he'd have doled out punishments reserved for the naughtiest of misdemeanors. Molly, though sweet, in a candy-cane stuck on hand variety, was an emotional mother hen. Draco wasn't used to emotions. Arthur was tolerable enough, but there was too much bad blood between the families for either to become bosom pals. (s_hudder_). Cousin Nymphadora was, well, Tonks, and Draco even liked her, for 5 minutes in a day. No, he'd be better off expending his energies on the hunt for Horcruxes. Perhaps he'd even be able to help the goody-six shoes with his personal experience with the Psychopathic Lord. Asking them to take him along had been deleterious for his ego, so he would have to manipulate them into thinking they needed him more than he needed them. He could manage that, quite easily, he was sure. And did.

Thus was Draco Malfoy, taken along for the ride of his young life. Done in by his fear of well-meaning adults.

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I've been a good girl. Reward me with reviews?


	12. Sun & Moon & Stars in Snow

Disclaimer: It's all JKR's. It is, it is! I just borrow Draco for my own particular use.

Thank you to all these awesome reviewers: dakato izumi, Evil Tobi, Justice's Quill, x Dramione4Lyf x (for both chapters10 & 11), mentarisenja, Li0n3ss, Simkey (for both chapters10 & 11), marauderbabe289, gujjubabe, annaleeze, HarryPGinnyW4eva and Dixiecharmer. You guys rock me world, did you know that? So how does it feel to know you rock someone's world?

Thank you to all those who have deemed me worthy of being added to their alerts, communities and favourite lists. I hope you like this chapter. Which was gonna be the next chapter, but that was another long flashback, so i thought i'd give you a dose of the present for a while. So hurry up and read, and review, and i'll work on the next chappie and hopefully have it here in a few days.

My sincerest appreciation to Dixie Charmer, who finds it in her to make the time to peruse my ramblings and render them coherent.

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**Sun and Moon and Stars in Snow**

Hermione was brought back to the present when a stray snowball swooshed by, precariously close to her face. They were by the lake, some of the children were trying out their new ice skates and ice-hockey equipment. Harry was teaching the older kids the basics, and they seemed to be enjoying the sport, though Hermione noticed there was more contact involved than strictly necessary, between the opposing teams of boys VS girls.

The younger children were skating and playing in their own 'arm' of the lake; The large 'oxbow' lake had been designed roughly in the shape of a horse-shoe. Draco had hired a team of Magizoologists to create and maintain a healthy aquatic ecosystem there; to keep it naturally clean and well-filtered with the presence of plants and creatures, both muggle and magical. The result was a huge lake, which provided many opportunities for play; sailing, swimming and water sports in summer. It was also an educational resource in terms of study of Aquatic creatures and plants; Hagrid and Neville taught many 'classes' by the lake. One arm of the water body was much shallower, for the younger children.

Hermione was sitting on one of many benches in the middle portion, the ground between the two arms, looking out at the dispersed groups. The snowball had come from the children on the left, who were giggling, while one 10-yr girl looked apologetically at her. Hermione waved at Gretchen to let her know she was fine and grinned to assuage the little girl's guilt. The girl mouthed a "sorry" and got back to her snowball fight. On her right, the older children and Harry were still loudly engaged in their game. Harry had the unfortunate task of umpiring rambunctious teens 'improvising' the _silly muggle rules_. Some were blatantly cheating, but they brought about too many laughs for anyone to object too seriously.

There were some children right in front of her who were making snow castles. A group of three, particularly more artistically and architecturally inclined, had built a grand one, the size of a house, complete with little rooms that one could walk through, pillars, moats, towers, beds, tables and other furniture made of ice. They had even asked for permission to stay in it overnight. The Principal had not given in, though he knew perfectly well that he would have to wake up in the middle of the night to go check on the three, _in_ the snow castle. He would make sure the children were fine out in the cold. If they were asleep and didn't realize he was there, he might let it pass. If they were awake, and up to mischief, _and_ realized he'd witnessed the clear case of disobedience, he'd have to ground them.

Harry blew the whistle to indicate the game was over, won by the girls, who may not have won on pure talented alone, as they had definitely been more ingenious in their 'improvisations'. Harry skated over, close to where Hermione sat and then proceeded to take off his skates. Hermione cleared some snow off the wooden bench to make place for him to sit.

"Had fun?" she smiled as she dusted some snow off his jacket.

"Yup, at times I couldn't decide whether to laugh or throw the cheaters out of the game. Some of these kids are incorrigible!"

"Yeah, remind you of someone?"

Harry grinned back at her as he put his arm around her shoulder. "You looked like you were lost somewhere serious back here. You all right?"

Hermione shook her head, "Yeah, you know, just thinking."

Harry looked serious suddenly, apprehensive, his eyes shuttered, "What about Mione?"

Hermione eyed him, puzzled, wondering why he looked like he was bracing himself for something unpleasant. "Nothing much, Harry. What's going on in that head?" She raised a quizzical brow.

Harry looked away at the children furthest from them, finishing their snow castles. Hermione nudged him in his chest, "C'mon Harry, you know I'll get it out of you eventually, with or without Veritaserum."

As soon as Hermione said that, she regretted it; Harry's gaze locked with hers, speculation prominent in his green eyes. "You know, that's something Malfoy would say."

"Yup, guess all these years have rubbed off on me a little." It was Hermione's turn to look away now; she didn't want Harry to read anything in her face.

"Mione…" Harry was quiet for a few seconds and Hermione didn't encourage him to continue. She had a feeling that her perceptive friend may have caught on to something she didn't want to discuss. Harry took off his gloves and took Hermione's cold hands in his.

"Mione," he started again, hesitation clear in his voice, "be careful."

Hermione jerked around to look at him, "What are you on about Harry?"

Harry shook his head a little, as if trying to jumble words so they would fall better on his lips. "Hermione, he can be dangerous."

Hermione felt her heart and breath stop. Stuck. Still not working. She tried to recall the mechanics of the involuntary body functions and slowly they seemed to come back to her. Harry knew. How? And how could she get out of this without lying to him?

"How is Brian dangerous? And if he is, why did Ginny introduce us?" She was hoping to mislead him into thinking that the man at the forefront of her brain was Brigit's handsome and intelligent cousin.

Harry looked a little annoyed and took away his hand to take off his hat and rake his fingers through his raven hair. "Hermione, please, just… don't. Don't make this harder for me. You know this is not about Brian; if it were I'd be jumping with joy, not through hoops, wondering how the hell to say this to you."

Hermione sat rigid, steeling herself for the recriminations that she didn't want to hear. "Some things are better left unsaid Harry. If you have to think so hard about saying something to me, your best friend of 15 odd years, then maybe you shouldn't say it at all."

Harry was quiet for a bit, looking just a little sad. "He's changing you already Hermione."

Hermione looked at him with eyes and face masked cold and expressionless, "Okay Harry, you might as well get it over with it. What's eating at you?"

Harry had the grace to look a little ashamed as he took her hand again and looked almost apologetic. "Draco can be dangerous Hermione, being with him can be risky. There's more to him than meets the eye."

A tingle went up Hermione spine, but not the variety that had her begging for more with Draco. Danger. Here was the word again. Suddenly Hermione's quick mind jumped to possible worst-case scenarios. "Are you saying he's an active Death Eater again?"

Harry shook his head and looked away at the swiftly setting sun, coloring the sky an ominous inky blue, "No… that's not what I'm saying. But his… work includes dealings with certain people of disrepute. And look at his dating history Hermione. Has he ever dated anyone other than a pure-blood? It's because he can't do that and still maintain his status."

Hermione felt her eyes fill with unwanted, frustrated moisture, "Why are we having this conversation Harry? I explained this to your wife just last night. I spent some time with him, yes, but we are incompatible and we both know it. Why this sudden barrage of presumptions?"

The hand she hadn't remembered tightened its hold on her own, "I'm concerned about you. It's not that I'm worried that he'll break your heart. You're a big girl and he's a decent enough bloke, I guess. Your personal life isn't my business to intrude in. But I do get the right to worry about your safety. Being associated with him romantically could put you both in danger with the pureblood zealots that he associates with."

She was sick of the word. Danger? It was so… so vacant! Didn't tell you anything about the situation, just to be on guard at all times. She decided she'd had it with _danger_. She wanted other words. Specific words.

"Harry, what are you not telling me? What do you know about Malfoy?"

"Things I can't disclose Hermione."

Hermione's blood ran cold.

"Is it something bad? Can we not trust him? Is he turning dark? Has he hurt anyone? Physically I mean, and not in Quidditch. You know what I mean Harry!"

"It's not him Hermione. He's still okay. But the wizarding business world is still dominated by a few pure-blood dynasties and their ancient notions. Let's just say he plays quidditch with some pretty rough beaters. He has to, I reckon, he doesn't have a choice. But that doesn't make him any less dangerous."

_Annoying. Plain annoying._

"So how is he more hazardous to us today, than he was last month?"

"He isn't, not to everyone." He acceded.

"Then why this sudden, uncalled-for lecture, Harry? Do I have a placard on my head announcing that I'm in love with Draco Malfoy?" she said this sarcastically, with mounting frustration.

Harry looked away at the children packing up their toys, ready to leave the ever darkening outdoors for the hot-chocolate and roaring fire that awaited them inside. He whispered quietly, so softly that for a moment, she thought she'd imagined it. "Aren't you? In love with him?"

Hermione stood up abruptly, looking at him aghast, "Harry Potter!?"

Harry took her hand again and gently pulled at her to sit beside him. "Hermione, I'm not judging you in anyway." Harry kept her hand in his, not letting her pull it away, while he continued in a soothing, voice. "I've known you more than half my life. Almost 2/3rd of my life, really. You and Ron have been my family since before Gin and the kids. Did you think I wouldn't notice? It's not like this is new or recent. Did you never suspect I had feelings for Ginny before we got together? You and I, we see these things about each other, whether we acknowledge them or not."

Hermione was caught now. Between loyalty to her best friend and her … she didn't know what Draco was to her, she'd never been able to figure that out.

"So how long have you thought me in love with Draco, Harry?" she tried to make it sound like she was shocked at the idea.

"I don't know, since he showed up shot at Grimmauld Place and you didn't eat or sleep for a week after?"

Hermione was appalled. She put her head in her hands. "Oh Harry, am I really that transparent?" She looked at him, horror on her face "Do you think Draco knows too?" She clutched his hand unknowingly.

"You're not transparent Mione. For work, I've been training to read electromagnetic fields and pulses… auras. It helps us identify the state of mind, violent tendencies, emotional weaknesses and other things like that in possibly volatile opponents. I am just starting, so can barely see anything yet, but I can sense sudden changes in vibratory frequencies. Even if I didn't know you through and through, I would still be able to sense the jump in your electromagnetic field when Draco enters the room. The thing is, I've noticed his vibrations change when you are around too. That leads me to worry about you. And no, I don't think Draco knows. If you think Ron has the emotional range of a teaspoon, Draco has all the emotional sensibilities of a toothpick. He wouldn't know love even if there was a note attached to his beloved snitch. Besides, if he thought you loved him, he'd have most likely done one of two things by now."

"What things?"

"He'd either have bedded you by the time you were 18 or he'd have refused to meet you till you were happily married to someone else. Maybe he'd even wait for you to have kids, just to be safe. He told me he did that with one of his ex-girlfriends, who uttered the dreaded L word. Malfoy uses all knowledge to his advantage. I'm convinced he doesn't know. Even Ginny hadn't suspected anything till she got pregnant with Ana."

"And now? Does she still suspect it or was I able to dissuade her?"

"You dissuaded her and I talked her out of her hopes for you two."

"And Ron, does he suspect anything?"

Harry looked back at the now blackened sky, "No, he did grasp that you weren't exactly into him, though he imagined it was because of the war. I wanted to prevent Draco's murder so I didn't let on. Later, he figured you'd just out-grown each other. Why do you think he never pursued you more ardently? It's not like he didn't have a crush on you most of his teen years."

Hermione sighed. She didn't want to deceive Harry, any more than she had to, so she wanted to halt the conversation right here. She knew his persistence however, and knew he was looking for a reassurance she couldn't give him. So she had to find a half-truth somewhere that would just have to work. She couldn't break her promise to Draco.

"Don't worry about me Harry. I did fancy myself in love with Draco all those years ago, but grew out of it, you know? I want to be honest with you. If the opportunity presented it self where, somehow, all the conflicting planets miraculously aligned, I might consider a fling. I don't particularly care about danger when choosing friends, you may have noticed." She smiled and squeezed his hand. "I care deeply for him, but like I told Ginny, there are too many insurmountable obstacles. The pureblood/muggle-born issue barely scratches the surface. Bottom line is, we could never be together, not that way. There are going to be no declarations of undying love on either side anytime soon. So you see, I'm safe."

Harry looked relieved and a little saddened. She didn't want him to feel bad for her so she kept her features well schooled. She was glad it was dark.

"It's not that he doesn't like you, you know. The only time I see him dropping that icy mask and that obnoxious vocabulary is when he's talking to you… or about you. You're probably the closest thing he has for a friend. Of all of us, you were the first one to actually give him a fair chance and in his own demented way, he appreciates it. I'm sure his not taking things further is not from lack of want, but because of a whole set of mysterious Malfoy reasons."

"That, and he's probably wary of you and the Weasleys beating him to pulp. Or worse yet, lecturing him!"

Harry smiled, "Yes, Malfoy doesn't like lectures, does he?"

"Can't say he does, no."

"He can sure dish them out though. Remember the diatribes he used to start off on, back in the forests?"

Hermione smiled in remembrance, "Yup. For someone who knew so little about living in the wild, he sure had some strong opinions."

"He did make some valid points every now and then, though don't tell Ron I said so. Ron made me swear once that I'd never side with Draco against him, even if I agreed with the git!"

Hermione grinned; she could easily picture the adamant Ron in a huff after a verbal battle with Draco. "What did you do then?"

"Well, I just stayed quiet, didn't I? You were there to point out the logic or fallacies in an argument, and if you sided with Draco, at least my staying non-committal gave some support to Ron. Thankfully it didn't happen that much, did it? Ron's strength were his strategies and Draco's his stratagems – combined they saved our hides more than a couple of times."

"They did, didn't they?" Both Hermione and Harry fell quiet for a while, lost in their thoughts of that year. Hermione shook herself out of her memories in a few seconds though. She had to get back and get ready. It was almost 5pm and Draco had said he'd be by at 6. Hermione was glad it was now too dark for Harry to notice the guilty blush stealing up her neck and face.

"Let's get back inside," she said through chattering teeth, it had gotten really cold. "I need to wrap my hands around some hot chocolate. You've squeezed the circulation out of them today Harry Potter!" She admonished him jokingly.

They got up and accioed a few stray toys accidentally left behind, levitating them in through the big doors that led to the Common Hall. Hot chocolate was had; goodbyes said and hugs exchanged.

Harry and Hermione flooed to their respective homes.

-0-

Once home, Hermione hurried to get ready. She had a quick hot shower and stood in front of her wardrobe in her black satin bare essentials, wondering what to wear. Draco had said to dress warm and for the outdoors. She could wear jeans and a sweater, but who wore that to a date with a millionaire? She did, she decided, so changed into a particularly comfortable but tight pair, which she tucked into her long boots. She wore her warmest sweater, a wonderfully soft green one, suddenly realizing she had an awful lot of green and gray in her wardrobe. The colors seemed to soothe her somehow. Reds and oranges lent her energy and enthusiasm, and she'd dressed in those colors during the day. Now she felt like she could use some calming. She felt extremely nervous, like a schoolgirl out on her first date. It was their first official date, so that wasn't terribly surprising; she ended the thought with a grimace.

Hermione had just finished applying light make up and green eyeliner around her eyes when she heard the crack of his apparition downstairs. He hadn't bothered to ring her doorbell then, and she grinned. It showed a little familiarity and it pleased her, for she was afraid to show any familiarity of her own. Harry's warning had upset her, and at some level she hadn't been able to brush it off completely. He'd been right to a degree. Draco had never been romantically associated with anyone with less than a pureblood lineage or at least a practically royal status. Draco had dropped a girlfriend like a blast ended skrewt, when she'd dared tell him she loved him. It brought things into perspective for Hermione. And her defenses up in required places.

She walked down slowly, wondering what was an appropriate way to greet an almost friend, who you'd slept with, who you had fancied for years and who was now interested in your genes as a suitable subset for his future child. She couldn't come up with a suitable greeting, so she just smiled tentatively at him as she saw him turn around to face her. He looked near edible in his black cashmere coat, polo neck white sweater and black jeans. Jeans? She was glad she'd stayed casual.

He studied her calmly as she crossed the room to get her coat and laid it out on the couch.

"I just need some water and then I'm ready to leave. Give me two seconds?"

He nodded as she walked towards the kitchen. Just as she was passing him, she felt a nudge and found herself pushed against the wall. Her hands were now prisoners, tucked in his left hand, above her head. His right hand skimmed her waist as his body held her securely in place.

Neither spoke as the air around them changed. Draco brought his head down and inhaled deeply, "You smell good. Like orange blossoms. Not too sweet, just enough to make me want to do this." He nuzzled at her neck, skimming the skin with gentle lips that ignited something basal in her. Awakening some animal she hadn't discovered, before him.

She raised her head to give him better access and Draco used it to nip along the curve of her nape. He withdrew a little and Hermione found her body following his, covering the offending distance to stand flush against him again, her breasts rising and falling against his chest. Draco's knee parted her thighs and rubbed against her in a way she'd have found shocking, in ordinary circumstances. These were far from ordinary circumstances and she found herself moving against his leg, abandoning all modesty. She ached for him, her body a mass of static and out-of-control responses. How would modesty help? He found her lips and kissed her hard, her lips parted immediately to grant him entry, but she didn't feel his tongue, as she'd hoped. Instead he pulled back slowly and let her hands go, brushing his hand the length of her right arm, while his eyes studied her eyes. His hand found the gentle curve of her breast and ended its tortuous journey at the peak of her nipple. And he watched her, those snowstorm-in-the-night eyes burnt into her increasingly restless soul.

Slowly, frustratingly, he increased the distance between them, and eventually broke all contact. He seemed so much in control and so little affected that it shamed Hermione. Glad that she'd mastered occlumancy a long time ago, she faked another smile and walked by him into her kitchen. Now out of sight, she leaned against the island table and held her head in her hands, collecting herself. Angry with herself for losing control so easily, she saw her hands trembling as she reached for a glass. Filling some water, she raised it to her forehead, to cool herself down. It helped only a little. Her mind and body were in different places, the former hating the latter right now. That Hermione seemed to want Draco more than he wanted her had just been made amply evident. She had to be smarter about this, she just had to. After a minute, she tried to bring order to her appearance and headed back out. He was standing with her woolen muffler and gloves in his hand and held them out to her. He'd kept back the coat she'd taken out in exchange for her thickest coat.

"It's quite cold, where we're headed."

Draco held out the coat to assist her in wearing it and Hermione wrapped herself up, noticing it all seemed much warmer than it should. Perhaps he'd charmed it? She held on to the extended arm as she felt them apparate away.

Her first thoughts when she opened her eyes were "Merlin, this _is_ cold!"

They were standing in the middle of what seemed to be a clearing in what appeared to be a forest. Everything was covered in white. Everything. They seemed to be standing on the bank of a frozen river! Thousands of stars and a big three-quarter-moon lit the snow the color of his eyes. It felt like they were somehow closer to the sky, like she could reach out and almost touch one of the stars, if she could just stretch enough, reach just a little farther. This triggered a memory. She had been here before. She gasped, "Draco, is this where I think it is?"

He finally cracked a smile, his first this evening. "Depends Granger. Where do you think we are?"

"Draco Malfoy, did you bring me to the Himalayas, the tallest mountain range in the World, bang in the middle of winter?!?"

* * *

AN: So the dreaded talk with Harry is over and done with, and Draco still stakes the fires in her souls... now why did the idiot have to bring her to the coldest place on earth south of the Pole? Reviews will encourage me to post faster ;)


	13. The Right and The Righteous

Disclaimer: Not mine, JKR's. And still not getting paid for this. (C'mon Universe, do your part please?)

AN: I promised you _flashbacks galore_ and this, I believe, is the last great mammoth (in two parts, to be continued in ch 14 next week). I may include smaller ones, as required for twists in the story at a later point, but for now I think we're good.

Hey gujjubabe, Thank you for the anon review. The last flashback was too long? You'll throw a fit when you read this one :) I know the story may seem side-tracked… but this is the matter/content that I believe prevents my story from being a purely 'fluff' piece. Nothing wrong with fluff, most of my story's gonna be that way… I had started with fluffy, _Plot-What-Plot?_ intentions; but it's evolving into something larger than it's original vision. Plus I think it adds depth to the character definitions. Thank you so much for appreciating the story. I do spend many sleepless nights and meal-less days writing it, so reviews make it worth it!

To everyone who marked my story and me amongst alerts, favorites and communities- I'm humbled. To my favorite aspect of writing this fanfic- Reviewers, you Rock! How does it feel, knowing you rock someone's world?

My deepest gratitude to my awesome beta Dixie Charmer, who helps me widen the horizons, deepen the plot and expand the world that resides in these chapters. Oh and she edits them too ;)

* * *

**The Right and the Righteous**

"The Himalayas it is. I hope you weren't expecting a romantic restaurant in France?"

Hermione walked around, trying to notice details that were all buried under snow. It took a few seconds and then it dawned on her, how she knew this particular place, and she blushed red.

Draco noticed, the scumbag always noticed, and then grinned an evil grin. "So you remember this spot?"

"Draco, I promise you, you'll pay for this one!" Hermione claimed vehemently, but curiosity overtook her and she walked around a bit, trying to suppress the memories that came rushing back, as they forcefully tended to these days.

-0-

FLASHBACK

Embarking on their perilous journey the night of Bill and Fleur's wedding, the four had spent the year traversing around muggle and magical locales, isolated or bang in the center of danger and crowds; trying to locate the deadly Horcruxes that had almost killed them every single time they'd destroyed one. Hermione, Ron and Draco had worked together to protect and support Harry while the latter had confronted Voldermort. Harry had had power that Voldermort had known naught of. Of undying loyalty and love in his friends. And, well, grudging respect from Draco. And tremendous tolerance on Snape's part.

Hermione had suspected that Harry was the last Horcrux and had thoroughly researched ancient charms and various folklores for a solution. The word _Avada Kedavra_ in Sanskrit came from the root "From life, nothing". She read tomes that contemplated on the after-effects of the unforgivable curses. The bodies of the victims didn't seem to be harmed in the least by the killing curse, just that victims themselves seemed to be suddenly and inexplicably dead. Muggle coroners had not been able to identify a cause of death. Perhaps the curse worked by separating the connection between body and soul? Maybe therein lay the key? In Tantrik mysticism, she found a possible answer: astral traveling. She researched some more, and the four teenagers found themselves camping in the Himalayan forests near Kashmir, India. The locale had once been considered 'Paradise on Earth' due to its natural splendor; now it was tragically wrought with violence inflicted by the warring ideological factions of India and Pakistan.

It had been important to come here because a hermit, notwithstanding the violence of the neighboring region, called this particular expanse of forest home. The Patil's parents had heard of him as they had trekked through the hills in their youth, at a time when peace and harmony had reined the land. Over the past decade though, the sage had charmed his location to repel all beings, magical or non-magical, and it had taken strong disillusionment charms from Draco, plus Ron's developing tracking skills to find him. Impressed by their magic, determination, cause, Harry's bravery and Hermione's impressive translation spell, the yogi had agreed to help them. Being a recluse, he set them up in a cave nearby, and met them for about 2-3 hours a day. He also refused to give them his name, said he'd denounced that link to materialism as well. He told them to address him as Guru or Swami. Hermione had learned enough about the culture to add a 'Ji' in the end, as a mark of respect.

So Guru ji became their guide, though he agreed to teach the esoteric practice of astral traveling to only Harry and Hermione. Apparently, Draco lacked the temperament and Ron the temperance to learn the delicate and dangerous magic. That conversation hadn't gone too well. Ron had complained for days about the favoritism, "The nutter sleeps on a bed of nails, wears nothing more than a scrap of loincloth in these icy temperatures and eats nothing for days! Of course I seem unrestrained to the dolt!" Draco had been quiet after the first argument though. After the ascetic had explained to them that Ron and Draco were needed to protect the vulnerable bodies of their friends, he'd seemed to accept his role seriously enough.

_Draksha _(pronounced like 'drug' but with the 'sh' in the end) in Sanskrit was the word for an Ayurvedic medicinal tonic that helped in digestion. Ron had coughed incessantly when Guruji had explained that he'd be using the familiar term to address Draco. Ron had also visibly swelled when Swami ji had explained that he'd be using the name of one of Hinduisms most beloved Gods, for him: _Ram_ (sounded like Palm). Hindu children grew up hearing the story of Ramayana and Ram's defeat of the demon king Ravana was celebrated every year. Diwali, the festival of lights, probably the main Indian festival, marked the return of Lord Ram, his step-brother Lakshman and wife Sita back to his kingdom. Ron often teased Draco about how differently Guruji seemed to perceive the two of them. Draco ignored his "childish attempts at humor" paying much closer attention to the yogi's teachings than Ron did.

Theoretically, during astral traveling the soul exited the body, only joined to it by a spiritual umbilical chord of sorts. That left both body and soul susceptible to attacks by other magical creatures and spirits, and they were to have their share of scares. The sage warned them to practice infinite caution and discipline.

"There are many tortured souls wandering in this area… victims of mindless crimes committed in name of beliefs, Hindu or Islamic. We don't need Vaadermuth in this part of the world; we have radical, divisive religious and political leaders." He shook his head in sadness, "Anyway, the prospect of entering an empty body may be too tempting for some meandering souls, you must be careful. Draksh and Ram will help protect your body against the influences of the physical world, and I will initially guide you to protect your astral bodies in the spiritual world. You must not let your soul's energies get entwined with the energies of any other magical being. They may ride back into your body. To teach you that strength, we will for the first few weeks practice different meditation exercises. It will be a slow process, do not try to hurry it."

Guruji warned them to plan for the possible consequences of astral traveling for "Hari"; Hari was a common Indian name, used for the Lord, pronounced like 'hurry'. "If what you suspect is true, then Vaadermuth's soul will still be in Hari when Hari's soul leaves the body. Hopefully it will stay dormant. If not, that could pose immense danger to everyone around. It is Hari's will that holds the Harux down from its violent instincts. Without that control, the body may or may not obey the Harux's dictate and turn on your friends. We may unknowingly betray your plan and location to Vaadermuth, the way his have been betrayed to you in the past."

The sage's suspicions were confirmed when Harry told him that he had felt most connected with Voldermort during sleep. "Souls usually leave the body during sleep. That's why sometimes you seem to float back to your body before waking. When your soul leaves the body, it's the fragment of Vaadermuth's soul residing in your body that becomes more active. However, in sleep, your soul is more connected to your body than in astral traveling. In astral traveling, if the connection is severed, you might not be able to connect again, which means you could die."

They wandered about how to test the theory without it endangering anyone's safety. Draco had come up with part of the solution. "If Harry could use occlumency before he traveled, that would build psychic walls around him that Voldermort couldn't breach, from within or out." Draco had mastered occlumency under his aunt Bellatrix's tutelage. So Harry now took two very demanding lessons a day, from two very demanding teachers. While that went on, Ron perfected his tracking skills, gathering food for them and protecting them from outside intruders. He also greatly improved his marksmanship with the bow and arrow. Hiding behind a copse of trees, he had seen the children in a nearby village play with toy versions of the traditional weapon. He had carved himself a much more elegant adaptation from the magical woods.

The time that Hermione did not spend in learning and practicing the meditations, she used for researching the possible solutions for future obstacles. They had to prepare for the first time that Harry was able to project his soul astrally, with the possibility of leaving Voldermort's parasite of a soul in charge.

"Admittedly, it can't be a very big fraction, but it is an evil fraction regardless. So my suggestion, for the first few times, is to put the body out of commission, as soon as Harry's soul leaves the body. Not even let the Horcrux know that it has scope to come out and play." Hermione scratched her head nervously, a habit she had developed over the past month in the forest.

_Probably worried about a flea crawling there_… had been Draco's ungenerous thought, though he wisely refrained from voicing it. He had no qualms about voicing the next thought though, "How do you propose we do that Granger? Knock him over the head with that bludgeon Weasley seems to be wooing these days?"

Ron had taken an interest in Indian mythological weapons and had fashioned a bludgeon for himself from a fallen tree trunk. The Indian _Gadda_ was the weapon of choice for the strong and blunt Bheem, one of five protagonist brothers in the Indian epic Mahabharata. It had a wide, heavy, round head with a tapering handle, particularly for striking heavy blows on an adversary in close proximity.

"Eh, kind of." She said, looking worried.

"What?"

"No way!"

Harry's and Ron's protests rang out together but the hermit was quiet, before he nodded his agreement. "There is a herb that will do well. It is a soporific and will put the body into deep sleep. We can pour its tincture into his mouth as soon as there is an indication that he is in a meditative state. Then the body will be paralyzed for a few hours and even if Vaadermuth's soul wanted, it wouldn't be able to control it. The drawback is, neither will Hari, even once he returns to the body. He will be in deep sleep for a few hours. If at that time some physical danger were to befall us, he would be helpless."

"No he wouldn't. He has me." Ron had said that before anyone had had the chance to process it, and Hermione had beamed a proud smile his way.

Draco and Harry's occlumency lessons had intensified in preparation for the next step. Draco was forever chastising Harry for not having better control over his emotions. "Potter, it was all very well to have worn your Gryffindor heart on your sleeve like a kitten in school. Now it could endanger your friends and the sole hope of the wizarding world. That sole hope? Sadly, that's you. So suck it up and choke your bleeding heart. Your emotions don't have to control you, you have to control your emotions."

Even though Draco sometimes sounded acrid enough to remind Harry of Snape's disastrous lessons, Draco had the advantage of a youth's perspective. He used Harry's passionate nature to manipulate him into being better. He also had Harry's faith, a favor not granted to Snape till it had been too late.

The sage had taught Draco how to make the tincture from the potent shavdharini plant. The relative quiet of their stretch of forest, charmed to repel muggles, predators and now wizards and dark creatures, had been a good place to practice Astral projection. It had taken over a month before Harry or Hermione had achieved it, but they had, two days apart. It wasn't just a spell to cast efficiently, it required instinct and magical intensity, so Hermione had not been surprised that Harry mastered it first.

Ron had been reading up on and setting up stronger wards around them. With every passing day that they stayed in one place, the chance of their being discovered increased. They couldn't convince Guru ji to move away from the mountains, but Ron's stubbornness finally broke him enough to at least move to different regions around the Himalayas. So they broke camp every two- three days, moving between the different magical jungles in the surrounding countries of Nepal, Pakistan and Tibet. Fortunately, it was still summer, so even though it was cool in the mountains, it was livable.

Ron and Draco hunted for food that Sadhu ji and Hermione graciously declined for vegetarian fare. Guru ji was used to eating very little as he was a breatharian, which was why he needed the forest-fresh air. The polluted air of the cities would have been potently toxic to him. He, however, was always thrilled to drink the water they produced from their wands with the _Aguamenti_ spell.

For Hermione, the connection of life, soul and an animal's death = meat had finally been made in her head and she couldn't condone taking of a life to feed another, if there were options available. Instead, she learned to appreciate the fruits and cook the vegetables with rice and legumes that grew locally. Guruji was happy to teach her different recipes he'd learnt from his mother a lifetime ago, but he ate raw fruits only, if ever. Her cooking was simple but often substantial and tempting enough for the boys to sometimes forego meat too. She was good at making the different Dhals (lentils) and she learned to make the masala that added flavor to simple vegetables. They ate their meals around a magical fire, heating water for tea and taking the little warmth that it could afford them. They didn't want a full blaze and stayed far from all settlements because they didn't want to leave a trail to follow.

At nights they slept in a seemingly small tent, magically enlarged to fit separate rooms and the beds that they had learned to conjure. Only two slept at a time, two always keeping guard. The nights that Hermione had her shifts with Draco, she dreaded; hours with him, alone at night, in the fire's warm glow, under the reachable starlit sky – it was pure torture to her already taut nerves. The time they were supposed to be guarding together, she found herself sneaking glances at his alert form, his golden profile glowing in the magicked fire's embers. She felt like throwing herself into his lap every few minutes and only a very strong will power stymied her from acting out her fantasies of seduction. The morning after was always akin to a hangover; arguably deserved punishment for over-indulgence, so she soon learned to avoid shifts with him, as far as possible, for her sanity's sake.

Swami ji found the concept of sleeping in the tent rather funny and the confines rather claustrophobic, and preferred to sleep on the earth under the open skies. On Ron's insistence, he had left his bed of nails behind so this was comparatively luxurious for him.

They found brooks, streams and rivers brimming with the clear water melting from the glaciers, and used the waters for washing. These were the times when she most missed the steam filled prefect bathroom at Hogwarts, or her hot shower in her muggle home! Scourgify was just not refreshing enough. It didn't seem to cleanse your soul like water did, so they made do with the icy water from melting glaciers.

It had been near one such river that Hermione had almost died of embarrassment. She had gone there to bathe and uncharacteristically taken off her grimy clothes, to wash them inside out. She had been standing in a relatively wide and calm stretch of waist-deep water, when she'd heard a sound behind her. She'd whipped around to see Draco coming out from behind a grove of trees, at first unaware of her presence. Then he froze. He stared with mouth slightly open, at her wet, supple body, exposed completely waist-up, except for her hair covering some of her left breast. Hermione felt herself go red as his eyes thoroughly 'checked her out'. Then she saw the surprise replaced with a hunger she couldn't confuse for anything else. Nervous and still very much a virgin, she'd panicked. She lifted her wet clothes to cover herself and shouted, "Turn around you perverted voyeur!"

He immediately did. And walked away. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed. He wasn't seen that night till after she'd gone to bed, though he had sent them his patronus- a Romanian Longhorn dragon, to inform them that he was fine and exploring their current domain. After that day she made sure to be somewhat clothed at all times, wearing a bikini she had conjured to bathe.

Perhaps something had been imprinted on her subconscious or perhaps not, however, one day she found herself walking toward their new source of water, in a different jungle. She told herself it was to make sure he was all right, as he had been gone a very long time. Ron had volunteered to go look for him, but Hermione had got up and walked away instead, before anyone could argue. She looked for him by the brook they had located, but didn't find him there. Worrying, she expanded her search.

Eventually, hearing a crackling of underbrush, Hermione did find him, on the beach of a clear lake, performing a very delectable strip! He had just taken off his green cotton shirt and she wasn't sure whether to focus on his chest gleaming in the sun or the leg muscles bunching as he shimmied out of his pants! Oh dear Merlin! How could she walk away? As he threw his pants down Hermione saw he was standing proud and gorgeous in black silk boxers. In the middle of a jungle, with few resources, Draco Malfoy still found himself adorned in simple luxuries. Hermione was mortified at herself as a thought popped unfettered, "Take it off, take it all off!" And he did. _Sigh._ She just had the view from the back, but it was divine. She was rooted to the spot, felt herself getting hot and cold, and yes, very wet in places.

Draco walked into the water and started swimming as if it were a heated pool. She was almost tempted into hiding his clothes, it would make a glorious picture, him walking back to their camp, in the buff. She smirked, but then remembered he was a wizard, and a skilled one at that. The fashion conscious Draco would have probably learnt to configure haute-couture apparel the first day he was allowed to use magic! So Hermione did what a decent girl would do, if no one were around to castigate her… she watched the wonderfully gymnastic Draco swim in the sun dappled waters. That's all he did, so it wasn't that she was peeping on something private. And, his privates stayed hidden under the splashes, so, well!

She must have been there for about a couple of minutes, when Draco turned to face the thicket that hid her and called out loud. "Come on in Granger, the water's great."

Hermione knew that to walk away and pretend to not have been caught would implicate her further, so she boldly walked over and spoke in her most Molly-like tone. "You should know better than to disappear for so long! We were beginning to worry you'd fallen off a cliff or something." She picked up his clothes and threw them at him, in the water, so they were now drenched. "Get dressed and come back soon, the food's getting cold and I will not re-heat it for you. And Harry's waiting for his occlumency lesson, not that you'd care to be on time for anyone." She'd walked away in a huff, fully knowing that she'd never known Draco to be late for anything. She suspected that his amused smirk indicated that he knew exactly what was going on! Neither mentioned either incident to anyone else and after that day Hermione steered clear of all water bodies when Draco's whereabouts were unknown.

The only good thing to come from the episode was that on her way back, Hermione had stumbled on a tree root, falling down to discover an uncut, colorless crystal the size of her fist. She took it back to Swamiji and he told her she had found a powerful stone. Placed on the third eye, in the middle of the forehead the crystal would help in meditation and grounding the soul. Apparently it also helped set boundaries, align _chakras_ and repel possession by elementals. Guruji was impressed with Hermione's luck, "This is a good sign. It tells me we are on the right path as the crystal is undoubtedly a tool that will help protect you better while you are projecting your souls. It also helps rid the body of energy blockages and childhood traumas, making you healthier spiritually." He glanced at Harry and handed it to him and Harry held it for a minute before handing it Ron.

Hermione sat holding the crystal that night, in the tent, experiencing herself feel calmer and more peaceful the longer she held the stone. As she reached in the dark to set the crystal on the table next to her bed, it slipped from her hand, sparked with a brief flash of light and broke clear down the middle. _Oh! So that's what it is._ The next day she told her friends that the (now 2) crystals were spodumene. Found in different regions of the world in different colors like yellow, green and lilac pink, the crystal had a unique response to light. "Spodumene absorbs light to lose it's color, but it is triboluminescence, that is, it can also display a flash of light in the dark when agitated, rubbed or broken."

Guru ji blessed the two pieces of crystal and tied it in a string to place around Hermione and Harry's head when they meditated. After two weeks of perfected practice for astral traveling, under the effect of the sleeping potion, Guruji indicated it was time to check if the presumed parasitic soul actually resided in Harry's body. This would be dangerous, but it had to be done. They needed to have all their facts straight. This time they wouldn't render Harry unconscious. After all, in the final moments of battle against Voldermort, Harry wouldn't be asleep. If the body could be controlled by the Horcrux and then proceeded to turn against Harry's friends, there would be some serious thinking to do.

The day came and everyone was anxious. Even the chatter and chirping of the animals and birds seemed to startle them. There was no shavdharini tincture to bind Harry's body today. They had prepared to flee the scene immediately, in case the Horcrux revealed the location to Voldermort. Draco's job was to use the stunning and body-bind spells on Harry's body if the Horcrux turned it hostile. Ron's job was to get Harry away to a separate location immediately thereafter. Swamiji wanted to stay close to Harry's body to discern the strength of the other life force and Hermione was to travel astrally with Harry, supporting him and helping him stay grounded and bound to his body. Hermione's body was Draco's responsibility, to transport to a safe location in case of a sudden Death Eater attack.

Draco seemed to thrive most under the pressure, "We should cover his eyes, in case he opens them and observes his surroundings."

Swami ji covered Harry's eyes with large leaves as Harry lay down in preparation for meditation. "This way, if the Horcrux tried to control Harry's body into opening his eyes, we'll see the leaves flutter, and Draksh can bind his body immediately. Though, with what you've told me about the dark magic, I believe it should not have so much power over his physical form. Still, remember to stay completely quiet, the Horcrux could hear and relay details to its counterpart, if Harry's defenses fails."

When Harry and Hermione slipped into meditation, Guruji stood by Harry's prone body. With his hands he mimed a butterfly flying away from the bodies to let Draco and Ron know that the souls were leaving. Draco stood next to Hermione with his wand pointed at Harry, while Ron stood next to Harry, ready to apparate him away as soon as Draco's spell had hit. They waited in tensed silence for the worst to happen, but fortunately, it didn't. This first time, it had been decided that the exercise should be short, just for 5 minutes. When the 5 minutes were up, Draco would gently tap Hermione's hand and the projected souls, waiting and watching the scene, would re-enter their respective bodies.

The experiment proceeded without cause for concern. When Harry and Hermione got up, there was much hugging and sighs of relief. Draco didn't partake in the hugging, though he did let his relief be known in his own twisted way. "Good for you Potter. Next, we need to get you in practice enough to perform this mumbo-jumbo without having to recline into meditation. I doubt the Desperate Lord will afford you that extravagance while you're fighting him."

The advanced practice commenced. Harry and Hermione were able to reduce their prep-time, to be able to project their souls at will, instantly. The ambitious strategy assumed that at the final moment, when Voldermort cast his Avada spell, if Harry could extricate his soul the very moment the killing curse was to hit his body, the curse would kill the Horcrux instead.

Theoretically again, the Avada didn't injure the body, just the soul, so since only the Horcrux would be inside Harry's body, it would get killed by Voldermort himself, that would leave Harry's body free to be inhabited again by Harry's soul. This plan gave them the advantage of surprise against Voldermort, as he would not be expecting Harry to rise after yet another killing curse. Devoid of the last Horcrux, Voldermort would now be vulnerable to death. There were quite a few loopholes in the logic. There were no known cases of attempted Avada Kedavra being performed on someone astral traveling, so no one knew if it would sever the ties of soul and body.

Guru ji offered to be the test subject. The students refused his offer. Then Guruji insisted that they use him for the dangerous trial. Then he ultimately ordered them to do it, demanding it as his Guru Dakshina (tuition fee). "You children have your whole lives to live. Perhaps this is my mission in life, the reason I was born and the reason you found me when no one else had for 30 years. You all have your own paths to follow, your own tasks to perform. I have aided you in yours. You are to support me in mine." Usually very amiable and even tempered, when Guruji's authoritative aspect surfaced, the students had no choice but to give in.

It became incumbent upon Draco then, to say the killing curse… no one asked him, they assumed it by default. Hermione and Harry would be astral traveling at the time, trying to keep Guruji's soul engaged with them so it wouldn't drift away easily, while chanting a mantra that would keep his soul attached to the earthly realm. The danger with the mantra was that if the Avada Kedavra severed his soul from the body, the soul would not be allowed it's natural course to move on, it could be bound into staying behind as a ghost… so this was all rather tricky and delicate.

The Gods were with them and the exercise was performed without tragedy. The killing curse jarred Guruji's projected soul drastically, expelling it far away in it's astral form, but Harry and Hermione helped it stabilize, guiding it back to the immobile body. Guruji was able to enter his body again though it took a few minutes for him to wake up after that. The body and soul had both been weakened by the trauma, and it had taken him some time to recover.

This presented them with a number of possible scenarios. It was a relief that the killing curse worked by expelling the soul from the body; but if the soul was already expelled, the curse was benign to the body itself, and didn't prevent the trained soul's re-entry. However, the recovery time would make the following minutes quite critical. Harry would be weakened when his soul returned. Hermione would be right there to guide his body back… but they had to do all this in a time-frame that left no one suspicious of their plan. Hermione's body would be vulnerable in the duration. So they would need Ron and Draco to avoid being injured or killed themselves, while protecting their vulnerable friends!

The complexities were mind numbing.

It was unanimously decided to not perform the spell on Harry now, just in case something went wrong. They would leave it to Voldermort to destroy the last Horcrux.

With Swamiji's help, the teenagers had planned for the biggest obstacle in the final moments of battle. After having spent 2 months in the dense jungles, living in caves and foraging for food, the four finally asked for Guruji's permission to leave. He gave it, with his blessings. He told Hermione and Harry that they were welcome to commune with him astrally, whenever they required and offered to be there spiritually whenever they needed his astral body's support. He took Draco aside and spoke to him in private, a discussion that neither divulged the contents. Ron bristled at that, "Warning him to mend his ways, I bet. Maybe he'll bind his gitness for good, you think?"

Guruji came back and revealed a sack he had draped between the folds of his dhoti, "These are some of the magical woods and minerals from the area Ram. They will help you in your destiny. These magical ingredients are all considered holy in their own rights, and are said to overpower evil. The arrows used by Lord Ram himself were said to be made with a compound of these dhatus, coated in gold. I have been empowering these crystals. Perhaps weapons made with these might help kill the horcruxes? And an arrow could possibly maim Nagini from a distance."

The four touched their teacher's feet in respect and set up anti-apparition and other wards to protect him from their enemies.

Then they walked away. To Hermione it seemed like they didn't stop for a very long time.

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AN: 11 pages for a review from you? Not a bad deal at all. I'll take it!


	14. Right & Righteous continued

Disclaimer: not mine, JKR's.

AN: I'd had no intentions of writing the final battle scene when I started the fic. But here it is. Hopefully it isn't entirely dismal.

My deepest gratitude to the best beta ever- Dixie Charmer! She edits, she improves, she encourages and she makes the story so much richer than my mind alone could have. She also introduced me to spodumene and kunzite, the crystals that have become an important aspect of the story.

Thank you to all who are reading, all those who have marked this story and me amongst their favourites and all those who inexplicably wait for an update.

Thank you to the awesome reviewers for Ch 12; it was so amazing to know that I succeeded in my attempt to add another layer of depth to Draco's character and had you wondering and drawing your own conclusions about his _gitness_ ;): Evil Tobi, Simkey, Tarockets1, xDramione4Lyf x, HG4eva, Li0n3ss, Dixiecharmer, Zagreb-girl, mentarisenja and nathy7

My gratitude to the awesome reviewers for Ch 13; I have to tell you I was really nervous about this chapter and really excited about it, cos it deviated both in style and in plot. So I was extra grateful for your words of encouragement: HG4eva, Dixiecharmer, SPIRITnJOY, mentarisenja, Li0n3ss, xDramione4Lyfx, Simkey

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**The Right and the Righteous (continued)**

It had taken them almost a year and Guruji's magic imbibed arrows, to get rid of the remaining Horcruxes. Nagini had to be killed immediately before approaching Voldermort, to prevent him from unearthing their plan and his own mortality. They hadn't needed to look hard for their nemesis in the final month. All they had to do was stop being so careful, and it had led the Death Eaters to them eventually. Draco had opened clandestine lines of communication with Snape again; he coldly refused to tell them how, but Snape warned them about the impending attack.

They'd been playing hide and seek with the Death Eaters for a month and had apparated into Hogmeads, as close to the Hogwarts Grounds as they could, without endangering the residents. Then, in a series of wild and random apparitions, in a journey that spanned 4 countries, they had lost the tailing Death Eaters. All went as planned, and they then walked about 4 kilometers from Amesbury to get to the grounds at Stonehenge, where they were spending the night. Draco had suggested that they garner strength from the ancient worshipping ground, the day before they were to face their adversaries. Besides, he added, Stonehenge had enough magic of it's own to shield theirs, it would help them remain unnoticed.

During the walk, Hermione had filled Harry in on the legend of Stonehenge. "The stones at Stonehenge are said to be very healing, for the body, mind and soul. Each stone was thought to heal a different ailment. The giants brought the healing rocks from Africa and planted them in Ireland, though no one is sure of when and how. They called the formation _The Giant's Dance. _Around the 5th century, Merlin advised Aurelius Ambrosias to get these stones from Ireland, when Aurelius sought his counsel on constructing a memorial for the nobles who died battling the Saxons. So Merlin, King Arthur's fater and an army of 15000 knights went to Ireland to retrieve these stones and fought a battle for their possession. The knights tried but couldn't move the rocks, so Merlin magicked them onto the ships and then planted them in Salisbury plains, mimicking the exact formation of the Giant's Dance."

The four found a clearing in the chalk grasslands surrounding Stonehenge and settled for the night. Hermione felt awe in the company of stones so old and wise. They had seen such excesses of good and bad, and weathered it all. Even her disgust at the blood shed to possess the stones couldn't prevent a sense of peace stealing into her bones. She watched the sun set in a blazing orange sky, lined by the blue of the awaiting night. That spring dusk had been cloudless, pleasant, star-lit, profound and beautiful in all ways except one. They couldn't be sure that they'd all make it through the next day.

The four sat solemn around Hermione's bluebell flames in a small pit, not needing to rehash plans they had already dissected a million times, during sleepless nights. They had set up innumerable wards and spells to repel the muggle guards and wizards from their secluded clearing. Holding on to heir spudomene crystals, Harry and Hermione practiced their astral traveling one last time. In their spiritual form they communed with Guru ji, who promised to be around them the next day, to help ground Harry's and Hermione's souls and aid them in whatever capacity he could.

After about 2 hours of just sitting and staring, Ron and Harry got into their sleeping bags and eventually surrendered to restless slumber. Draco and Hermione stayed close to the flames. They had been sitting in comfortable silence for a while when Draco looked sideways at her with his blue-fire-lit eyes. She was caught like a deer in headlights, a hypnotized prey in a serpent's gaze. With his feline grace and lazy pace, he beckoned her with his index finger, then motioned with the tilt of his head for her to come sit next to him on the log he occupied. Hermione complied. Right then, she couldn't have done anything else.

Softly, so only she could hear, he spoke to her soul. "See that star there?" He pointed to the skies, "The ancient Egyptians called it Thuban, and that constellation around it Tawaret. Tawaret was the goddess of their northern sky. The Greeks were to later name the constellation Draco. About 5000 years ago Thuban was considered the pole star… because of the Earth's position, it would have appeared to those who gazed at the heavens, that all stars and the Earth revolved around Draco." He smirked at that.

Hermione knew the folklore, but couldn't help but let him continue. It was as if, for the first time in the whole year, he was making an attempt to really connect with her. To let her in.

Draco sat staring into the infinity of the heavens above. "The largest pyramid in Giza houses the burial chamber of the Pharaoh Khufu, who ruled around 2500BC. Even though the chamber itself is very deep, two shafts lead out, pointing to the skies. One-shaft points at the belt of Orion, which symbolized Osiris. The second points to Thuban, representing Horus and Isis. The Pharaoh expected to assimilate with the Gods and rule the heavens, as he had the earth."

Hermione nodded gently, spellbound with his story telling. Egyptian mythology had fascinated her since childhood, since before she knew she was a witch. Horus was Osiris and Isis's son. Together the three represented the most powerful Gods in Egyptian mythology, their captivating saga one of betrayal by the jealous brother Seth, triumph over evil and a love that endures through eternity.

In smooth mellow tones Draco continued, "The ancients considered the stars in Draco 'imperishable' and 'undying'. They thought the constellation ever-vigilant, as it never set." His eyes turned to Hermione again, the fire still reflected, but strangely muted somehow. "Tomorrow we'll find if I am aptly named."

Hermione laid her hand on his shoulder, an act she considered one of her bravest in the last year. She hoped the touch comforted both, as they considered their mortality. She knew they would be targets just slightly smaller than Harry himself; Hermione for being the mudblood friend to the boy-that-lived and Draco for the blood-traitorous path he'd chosen.

"If I'm not, there's one thing I've been itching to try for a while." He looked amused now, no longer grave. He was mercurial, this one.

Hermione smiled back at him, "What Draco?"

"This."

Hermione found herself being kissed most thoroughly. Nothing had prepared her for the surprise and the onslaught on her senses. It was at once passionate… demanding… desperate… hopeful. Hermione knew this wasn't about her, but who was she to look a gift kiss in it's mouth? She gave in, enjoying the celestial music that played in her ears, shivering at his cool touch on this warm night, thrilling in the lips that teased hers. And she almost floated away astrally when his tongue gently entered her mouth to play even worse havoc on her senses. Wait. Celestial music? She'd muse on that later.

She raised her hands to feel his silken hair, the way she had craved untold times these past months. She explored the fine sculpture of his chest through his thin shirt and she wished, most ardently, that this would never end. It did. He slowly extricated himself, giving her a lopsided grin, which she couldn't help but return.

"I think you just single-handedly saved my soul from eternal damnation, Granger." He winked at her and she punched him in the shoulder she had previously caressed.

Hermione smirked as she wondered how she'd ever explain to any of her friends, how she and Draco had come to kiss. (Not that she ever intended to!) She remembered a line from a muggle movie, _The Mummy_; the surprised heroine had asked the handsome stranger why he had kissed her without rhyme or reason. He'd shrugged and replied offhandedly, "I don't know. I was about to be hanged. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

After a few moments silence, Hermione yawned and Draco's face softened. "Time to sleep, I reckon. Nothing would instigate Voldy more than us falling asleep in his reptilian face. He'd be most affronted. Go to sleep for a while, I'll wake you in a couple of hours when I get sleepy."

They said goodnight and despite what she'd imagined, Hermione slept better than she had in weeks. She awoke refreshed a few hours later, to let Draco catch a nap. Draco and Hermione had decided to let Harry and Ron sleep through the night and keep watch themselves. This way, one person in each of the two groups would be alert tomorrow. Besides, they had their wards and the paltry benefit of the muggle security system.

The night passed without further incident, amongst the undisturbed sounds of nocturnal ebon.

-0-

The final battle was to take place near Albus Dumbledore's tomb at Hogwarts. A letter, left by Headmaster Dumbledore for Harry, had indicated that they would be most protected at Hogwarts grounds, where the powerful wizard's magic still flowed. On the first day of summer break, after the students and most teachers were to have left for their homes, the four visited the grave, in the guise of paying their respects to Dumbledore, on the day that marked his first death anniversary.

The four had been counting on everyone having departed for the safety of their homes. They had left behind a discrete trail, subtle enough to have the Death Eaters work hard to follow it, but hopefully not obvious enough to indicate a blatant invitation to the expected melee. They knew danger was approaching, fast.

They had thus been shocked to find Ginny, Fred, George, Lupin, Tonks, Hagrid, Neville, Luna, Dobby, numerous other students, the entire Weasley family and many Order members on Hogwarts grounds. Dobby had been alerted to Harry's presence near Hogwarts the day before, and rushed to tell Ginny. She in turn had confided in her most trustworthy companions and the members of the DA; Dumbledore's Army now boasted much larger numbers, from all four houses. Voldermort's return, being common knowledge, had encouraged many additional students to sign up to learn how to defend themselves against Death Eaters. Free of Umbridge's oppressive reign, and under the wing of their new DA teacher, the clandestine meetings had continued away from the Headmistress's averted eyes. The new teacher for Defence against the Dark Arts had been the talented and resourceful Bill Weasley, who had taken a leave of absence from Gringotts for a year, to recuperate and enjoy his newly married status. Fleur lived with him on campus and assisted the various teachers in their lesson plans.

Harry and Ron tried to convince the others to leave, but to no avail. The students had first obtained special permission from Headmistress McGonagall to stay behind the extra day to pay their respects to Albus Dumbledore. Not suspecting anything at the time, and touched by their apparent devotion, she had allowed it if their parents granted permission. The students had then owled their parents letting them know that they were staying behind to honor Dumbledore's memory; they would be home a day late, taking the second train that Minerva McGonagall had arranged for them. Now everyone that Harry cared about and respected was here. They all rallied in support, wanting to fight beside the four.

Harry loathed that so many people were now in peril because of him. Draco sensed his emotions wavering, endangering his focus. "Potter, everyone has the right and in fact, the responsibility to fight against evil. It isn't the privilege of the singularly destined. You could call these students self-serving and Slytherin-like if they chose to put their own safety before the greater good, couldn't you? Let them stay and help. They'll keep the Death Eaters distracted from us… Merlin knows we can use all the distraction we can get. We have enough intricate details to get just right. Don't be a self-sacrificing toad, and learn to accept help gracefully. You'll be no good to anyone dead."

So the supporters stayed, and even called for more re-enforcements. Families, friends, neighbors, colleagues, aurors from Ministries around the world... everyone was owled and flooed. Most showed up, within the hour.

_And so the final battle against He-Who-Was-Not-Be-Named was fought, during Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore's second memorial service on the first anniversary of the demise of the greatest wizard known to the wizarding world._ That was how Rita Skeeter later worded it.

It had been a cruel day, taking away many family members and many friends on both sides of the war. The battle was quick and fierce.

Neville and Augusta Longbottom dueled Bellatrix Lestrange with a vengeance she thrived on, while Luna and her father Xenophilius Lovegood kept Rodolphus Lestrange busy with a constant shower of confusing hexes that Rodolphus had never seen before. Lupin found some closure in Peter Pettigrew's defeat and surrender, though as soon as Peter fell to the ground in capitulation, his enchanted hand throttled him to death. Remus couldn't find it in himself to attempt to stop the hand.

Dobby organized the house elves and theastrals; riding on Buckbeak, he directed their efforts towards the dementors, who had little effect on these magical beings. The centaurs, convinced by Firenze and led by Bane, launched a volley of arrows against the few giants that had decided to aid the Death Eaters. Accompanying the centaur's attempts in facing the giants were a passionate Hagrid and a much-reformed Gwarp. Charlie distracted Nagini while Minerva McGonagall armed with Godric Gryffindor's sword decapitated the monster. As the snake's hacked head writhed around on the ground, ready to attack Fleur in rage and pain, Ron, from a distance, shot two arrows into its mouth, sealing it shut and finally killing the beast.

Enraged at witnessing his Horcrux destroyed and unaware of the other's destruction, Voldermort turned his attention to his last remaining Horcrux – Harry and cast the killing curse. At the same moment, Snape sent a harmless spell Hermione's way. Instantly Harry and Hermione left their bodies while Ron and Draco apparated to stand beside them, as if shocked by the loss. Harry's body had fallen just as the green light of the Avada Kedavra hit him. Still not secure in the knowledge, Voldermort looked towards Snape, who had apparated to get closer to the bodies and now stood with his wand pointed at Draco and Ron. Snape kicked Harry's comatose body and nodded at his deceived Lord. In his jubilation, Voldermort shouted out loud, proclaiming his victory theatrically. "There's no one to save you now! Harry Potter, your feeble hope, your star, has fallen! Bow to me and do my bidding, and I may spare your lives. Come, accept me as your Lord, your master, the most powerful wizard to walk on Earth!"

The battle stemmed. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, Dumbledore's prodigy and their assumed savior lay dead, as did his friend Hermione Granger. Everyone was at a loss as to what to do next. Draco and Ron were the first to kneel on one knee, beside the fallen. Taking their cue from that, some other students knelt, indicating their submission.

"Live today, fight tomorrow" was the caveat Harry, Hermione, Draco and Ron had propagated to their friends and family on the grounds before the attack, in preparation for the event. They didn't want an outrageously brave Gryffindor to die unnecessarily, trying to avenge Harry's minute-long death. Heeding that advice, more and more of the DA members knelt on the ground. Most of the adults and Order members refused to follow suit, standing with their heads held high. They did not want to start a barrage of attacks though, fearing they would endanger the lives of the younger ones, some, their own children. One by one, they lowered their wands; the children needed to be transported away from the Death Eaters, and adults were needed, alive and in one piece.

The sight of the enemy's gradual surrender had captivated Voldermort and his followers, who now stood looking even haughtier than before. This distraction had given Harry and Hermione enough time to help Harry's soul return to his now Horcrux-free body and to recuperate behind the shield that Snape, Ron and Draco's bodies provided for them. Though Harry's little movements of reanimation were shielded from the Death Eaters' view, some observant DA members standing behind the bodies noticed the flutters. Ginny walked over to where Harry lay and kneeled by it too, further hiding him from Voldermort's vision. Parvati and Padma followed suit. On the pretext of holding her love's hand Ginny passed him a small bottle of the Pepper-up potion she had sneaked from the hospital wing earlier that day.

Fred and George, not wanting to arouse suspicion, went and knelt next to Hermione's body. Lavender and Seamus joined the twins, fanning out around Hermione, further diverting the watcher's attentions.

"How many times do I have to tell that nutter that Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard to have walked the earth?" Harry muttered under his shallow breath. He was able to drink the potion unnoticed. If that alone hadn't been enough to help him recover, a small golden light gradually emerged from nothingness against his chest, and turned into a phoenix. Fawkes, professor Dumbledore's loyal pet, cried a few tears over Harry's abdomen. Harry felt himself brimming with love, joy and gratitude for his friends and protectors. All this went unnoticed by the adversaries, who were still raptly attentive to the gradual surrender among their enemies. Harry picked up his wand and whispered to the people around him, "On three."

One.

Fawkes disappeared, leaving behind a single golden feather.

Two.

Harry held on to the feather, along with his wand. Voldermort's and his own wands both had cores made of Fawke's feathers, Harry figured an extra feather wouldn't hurt. Everyone around him tensed in readiness.

Three.

The fallen two and the shielding eight jumped up and started throwing hexes. Seeing Harry and Hermione stand up again sent a wave of euphoria and renewed passion through the Order and DA members. Voldermort and his Death Eaters stood stunned.

The chit of a boy had survived a direct hit from the Dark Lord, not just once but twice?? Snape was protecting Harry?! He had always remained loyal to Dumbledore and still managed to fool their master?

This shook the Death Eater's courage and broke their faith in Voldermort. Death Eaters began to throw down their wands and kneel in surrender. Bellatrix Lestrange seemed to lose her last shreds of sanity and redirected her volley of hexes towards the deserters with a lunatic cry of "You filthy traitors!" A passionately uttered stunning spell from Neville threw her back several feet in the air till she collided against a tree, only to slump unconscious at it's roots. Augusta Longbottom could not have looked more surprised or less proud.

Voldermort was enraged and once again lifted his wand towards Harry. The green jet of light from his wand was met simultaneously with four spells and an arrow. The 'Protego Horribilis' from Hermione, the 'Expelliarmus' from Harry, the 'Avada Kedavra' from Snape and an unknown silver jet from Draco's wand all clashed with Voldermort's killing curse. As every witness on the field watched captivated, the Avada reflected back, following Ron's arrow to hit Voldermort in his chest. The last horcrux was destroyed. The Dark Lord fell, once and for all.

-0-

The muggle world was to witness again, the flurries of owls in daylight, a phenomenon that had been recorded just once, 16 yrs ago. The fog and gloom thankfully lifted from their skies. There were some nutters witnessed dancing on street corners, dressed in weird colorful robes and hats, but they seemed too happy amongst themselves to cause undue concern. Besides, they disappeared mysteriously into alleyways if anyone approached them.

Gorgeous fireworks, the likes of which had never been seen before, lit up London skies. The confused authorities had issued no license for the activity and were unable to catch the perpetrators. Two men in funny cloaks had been observed around the banks of the Charles River, right before the hour-long fireworks display. However, no one had been able to take much note of their appearances. The only physical attribute that had caught one witness' attention had been bright red hair on two very similar heads.

Draco's parents had been found, imprisoned in Bellatrix Lestrange's home. They were acquitted of any major wrong doings, their son having redeemed the family name. Lucius, having suffered under the Dark Lord's torturous wrath for the major part of the last year, did not survive long.

Hermione retrieved her obliviated parents and her pet Crookshanks from Australia.

Ron Weasley was a celebrated hero. His part in defeating Voldermort completely overshadowed his elder siblings' claims to fame from their school years.

Harry Potter was finally free, not anymore just the boy-who-lived, but finally allowed to be, just… a boy.

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Dear all, I'm moving to the East coast in about 10 days. So I have some serious packing to do, along with my last week at work. I will try, but I can not promise when I will update next. Please review the chapter? That will make me very, very happy, and may induce in me a feverishness to update ;)


	15. Senses

An 1: So I know this is a very small chapter, but I am really excited about it because it is completely different from my usual style. Please let me know what you think.

AN 2: Back in the present, on their very first date, shivering… a Himalayan forest covered in a blanket of snow… standing on the star-lit bank of an ice-enameled river.

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**Senses**

"Draco…"

"hmm?"

"I'm cold."

"I know. I'm working on it."

_

"Draco?"

"hmm?"

"What are you working on?"

"Patience Granger."

-

"Draco…"

"Hmm?"

"This is perfect."

"I thought you'd like it."

The insides of seemingly small tent were palatial, wonderfully warm and welcoming. A sultan would have desired to be entertained by his harem here. Desperately.

All of this, next to the river where Draco had first seen her naked, quite accidentally.

"And if it weren't an accident, would you forgive me?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"Remember when I _accidentally_ walked in on you swimming in the lake?"

-

"Draco?"

"_Yes,_ Hermione...?"

"When you said you've always wanted to take me here…?"

"I meant it. I've always wanted to take you. Here."

Sigh

-

Red. And gold. Silk. Velvet.

Sight, smell, feel, taste. Rustling sheets. Warm, incredible lips.

_Gasp_

"That feels sooo good Draco."

"I thought you would like that too."

-

"Draco?"

"qu'est-ce qu'il y a, ma cocotte?"

"When are you going to take your clothes off?"

"Who said anything about me taking them off? I took off yours, didn't I? Move your butt, pull some weight."

_Groan_

-

"Hermione?"

"hmm…?"

"Why do you feel so good?"

Hermione looked up into Draco's open gray eyes, with light and dark flecks that changed with every second… feeling, for the first time, like there were no defenses there. Like he was letting her see into his soul. She saw his strength, his passion and his confidence. Also his loneliness, his need for defenses, his need to not be vulnerable. Which in it's own heartbreaking way, made him fragile too. She lost her heart to him all over again.

-0-

"est-ce que vous avez bien dormi?"

"Good Morning. Yes, I slept well. You?"

"I kept expecting you to throw me out of the tent or at least the room. We're making progress, I'm proud of you."

_Grin_

_-_

"Mi?"

"Hmm?"

"Your body, I can't get enough."

"Well, I'm in no hurry to get back."

Moan


	16. The Having of Words

Disclaimer: JKR wrote the HP stuff. I've kidnapped Draco. I don't think she really loved him as much as I do, so don't think she'll mind.

AN: Hello all, just wanted to give you a 'key'. Italics can mean a word I'm stressing on. Eg: _She_ was not immature, _he_ was.

In this sentence, I'm laying particular emotional and 'narrational' emphasis on the **she** and **he**.

Italicized sentences can also be different things- quote from a text or content of a letter or a thought processes.

Eg : _I'M not immature, YOU are. - _Could be a direct thought in Hermione's head where she's stressing on **I'm **and **you**.

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To my kind Reviewers, a _biiiiiig_ THANK YOU... we've crossed the 100 mark!!! Yippeeeeee!!! I am also grateful to all who are reading, all who have marked this story amongst their favorites and all who've set alerts for updates. Without all of you, there would be no story.

Thank you to mme amasing beta Dixie Charmer, witout whos help you couldve bin reading poo poo. In this chapter, she was also my guide into the nebulous world of jewellery syntax.

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**The Having of Words**

It was still quite dark outside when they apparated back to Hermione's flat at around 6:00am. India was about 5 hours ahead of GMT, so waking up amongst birdsong there meant around 4:00 am in London. Draco was of the opinion that they had used the interim time quite productively.

Hermione hung up their coats and handed Draco a new toothbrush and clean towel. "Coffee, tea? You've just had me." she grinned at Draco as she headed towards the kitchen.

"Coffee please?" Draco graced her with a smile.

Hermione got the coffee machine going and hurried up to her bedroom to brush her teeth and freshen up. Her clothes from the night still felt fresh, because, well, she hadn't worn them very long, had she? She sighed as she remembered the magic that Draco stirred in her very core.

During their morning cuppa, Draco retrieved and started reading her newspaper, passing her the pages he was done with. She grinned at his complete lack of inhibitions at using her place as his own. She offered to make breakfast but he refused. During the night, he'd produced an amazing Indian dinner and it was still too early for either of them to manage to eat.

Hermione saw his body language lose some of its carefree languorousness as he read an article, so she glanced over the page. It was a report on escalating Vampire attacks in a small town near Sydney, Australia. Muggles had been attributing it to an ever more brazen dingo population, but the wizarding world knew better. The wizard authorities had been trying to come to an understanding with the local vampire population, but to no avail. An offense had been launched, but the vampires were too fast and too clever. They had managed to convert some members of the OZ Magical Law Enforcement into vampires as well. Consequentially, they knew all the tricks that OZ.M.L.E had up their sleeves. The Australian ministry was now soliciting help from more benign Vampire populations and aurors around the world.

"Isn't your team headed off for a tour in Australia and New Zealand next week?" Hermione asked, her eyes betraying her concern.

"Don't worry Mi," Draco gently ruffled her hair and smoothed the wrinkle from her forehead, "by the time we get there, this should be under control. I heard from some friends in the ministry that the vampires killed a 15-year-old girl last week, so our aurors are all too eager to get their stakes pointed. Once you unleash Potter on them, there won't be much left to worry about." He winked at her and set aside the newspaper to stretch. "Time to head out. I may be running late tonight, some work. I'll owl you tomorrow."

Hermione nodded, hiding her brief twinge of disappointment well. She wasn't going to get to see him again today, but he would owl her tomorrow. He hadn't needed to explain any of that to her, but he had, and that was nice.

As Draco put his robes back on, he seemed surprised at something and checked his pocket. "Almost forgot. Here, catch."

Hermione was an intelligent witch; borderline genius they called her. She was also calm, wise, patient and ambitious. Her hand-eye coordination however, was nothing to write home about. She didn't catch the box but was swift enough to think an Accio, breaking its fall.

She opened the blue satin box. In it lay an exquisite pendant… it was an intense lilac pink stone set in a marquis collet, hanging on a delicate chain. She assumed it was a pink diamond in platinum setting. She found herself getting angry, feeling insulted. She snapped the box close, "It's pretty, I'm sure your next floozy will like it." Hermione threw it back in Draco's general direction.

Draco had no trouble instinctively catching the missile; he didn't even need to look towards it. His eyes were trained on Hermione. His cold, expressionless, shuttered eyes. "This is yours to keep Granger." He set it on the side-table close to where he stood.

"I can't accept jewellery from you Draco. It won't happen." Hermione's felt herself grow hotter by the second, her armpits beginning to perspire.

"Care to explain why, Granger?" Draco didn't sound too warm right now.

"Let's see. We're having sex. We are planning a baby out of wedlock. I'm at ease with that agreement. I, however, refuse to be your mistress. We are equals in this arrangement. You do not pay me for services rendered." Hermione's chin jutted out stubbornly.

Hermione saw Draco's expressions change from cold to livid.

_Blast it… maybe I shouldn't have said it EXACTLY like that._

Draco seemed to be using his will power to pull himself into control. Hermione was surprised he hadn't started shouting yet. But no, shouting was Ron's MO, not Draco's. When the icy words fell from his barely moving lips, they gave her goose bumps.

"Granger, I think I'm done with this arrangement already."

Hermione looked up, resisting the clutching claws of cantankerous nerves. She'd just been trying to lay a ground rule. She realized she'd over-reacted, but he wasn't playing Mother Teresa either.

"Can't abide any rules other than yours, I see." Hermione tone was laid with sarcasm.

"It's not about rules. It's about embarking on a relationship you are too immature for, abysmally so." Draco's voice, face and eyes were as remote, as unforgiving as the Himalayas in winter. She would know.

Hermione was irritated and crossed her arms over her chest. If he wanted to leave, bugger it all! She hadn't expected this to last long anyway. She foresaw some self-flagellation in her future subsequent to his departure, but right at this point, she didn't care much! He could leave, he couldn't however, leave it at that. She was _not _immature. He was! _Ask Ron!_

"Care to explain, Malfoy?"

"Where do I start? First I had to convince you that getting together was a decent enough notion. The last time I had to pursue someone was, let me think… _never_! You, on the other hand, had to take a bloody _month_ to think it through. Then, this morning, I left you chirpy as a songbird. A day in bleeding-heart Potter's company and I find you morose and jumpy in the evening. For Merlin's sake, I had to _distract_ you to get you back in a decent mood! And now, I just gave you a token, something that reminded me of you, and it becomes a blooming drama. Why does everything have to have a thousand implications? Why can't a pendant be a pendant and not an indulgence over a keep? I had ascertained that we would face our share of resistance in others, regarding this arrangement Granger, but I had not foreseen you being this difficult." Somewhere in the diatribe, Draco's disposition had gone from being ballistic to sedately unruffled. In a carefully modulated tone he said the last part, with a blonde eyebrow delicately raised for added effect, "Perhaps you don't want this after all?"

Hermione looked at him, just a little dazed. So he'd noticed her downer mood after that lakeside talk with Harry at Sanctuary. That's why he'd jumped her against the wall? He'd distracted her well enough, she reckoned.

"Draco, it's not that I don't want… this arrangement. It's that I need to maintain my independence and identity through it. I can't have you throw expensive gifts at me…"

"This is not expensive." Draco interrupted her coolly.

"It is for me!" Hermione groaned.

Draco walked up to Hermione, close. Too close. She could smell the mountain in him. He stared at Hermione for a few seconds, and that's when she noticed, his eyes seemed darker, more black than gray. She started to step toward him but he held up his hand and stepped away, looking like he was tired, like he was giving up. On her.

"Granger, why can't you be normal sometimes? Normal women like it when men get them gifts. Normal women consider it a sign of affection. Why is it so hard for you to accept that I am rich and I can easily afford these things for you? I'm not the type to write poetry or plan a serenade, but if I see something that reminds me of you, I can buy it without it denting the Malfoy millions. Billions, as of last week. However, if it's going to turn into a battle every time I do something vaguely familiar, I'm not sure I want to deal with it. I'm done chasing you. You make up your mind about what you want and let me know."

Hermione was still reeling under the sensory onslaught of the mercurial shifts in his mood. It changed so quickly, from cheerful to calm to livid to cool to narked to resigned. She shook her head to clear it and saw him reach inside his robes to take out his wand.

"Oh, and by the way," Draco picked up the pendant box. "Knox" Draco said the spell to turn off all the lamps in the room. There was a sound of something being thrown to the floor, a brief flash of light that colored the floor pink for a moment and then the crack of his disapparition.

Hermione re-lit the lamps in her flat and retrieved the pendant lying on the floor. It wasn't a diamond after all. It must be a kunzite. That's why Draco had wanted to give it to her after their Himalayan excursion. A kunzite was a pink spodumene, the same crystal she'd found in the Himalayan forests near Pakistan; the one that had helped Harry and her so much in their meditations. This was a more expensive version, yes, deeper in color, clearer, beautifully faceted and harder… it hadn't broken, even being thrown to the floor with that much force. Still, it would be nowhere as expensive as a diamond this size.

Hermione had studied enough about crystals to know what a kunzite represented, but she still ran up to her library to take out her book _Magical Minerals and How to Use Them_ by the wizard mineralogist Larissa Lazuli. She turned to the page that showed the picture of a brilliant pink Kunzite, but it paled in comparison to the intense color of the pendant that Draco had gifted her.

While still walking to her bedroom, she glanced over the chemical properties and crystal structure of the stone. She sat down on her bed to read about its magical and healing properties.

~*~

_This particularly attractive form of the spodumen family is found in the regions near Afghanistan, Brazil, Madagascar, Pakistan and the USA. Though the Native Americans were familiar with the magical and healing properties of the pink crystal, a muggle gemstone specialist, George Frederick Kunz, 'discovered' it in California in 1902 whence it was named Kunzite. He proceeded to popularize its use in jewellery and now it is commonly used for adornment in muggle culture. _

_In the wizarding world, Kunzite is primarily valued for its ability to enhance capacity for devotion, affinity to peace and liberation from melancholy. _

_Muggles that hold faith in Crystal Therapy understand the basics of these healing powers and thus believe it "reduces negativity" and use it as an aid in meditation._

_The great seer, Cassandra Vablatsky, claimed that Kunzite connects one to the infinite source of love, therefore it helps one love thyself and others unconditionally. She is said to have 'seen' that when the stone is worn next to the heart, as in a pendant, it demonstrates immediate affect on the heart chakra. She surmised that the crystal aligns the heart with the throat and third eye charkas, making it ideal for those who hesitate in expressing their emotions._

_Perhaps it is no surprise then, that Middle Eastern wizards have used powdered Kunzite for centuries, as a common ingredient in benign love potions and aphrodisiac oils. It is an ideal blessing for new lovers. Some wizard tribes in ancient Madagascar are said to have historically used Kunzite as the main jewel in a bride's trousseau, to foster devotion between couples in traditionally arranged marriages._

_Kunzite has also been documented to 'amplify fertility'. A double-blinded, 5-year study was conducted by the Providence Research Institute of Facts and Legends in 1967, where 200 participating witches as well as the supervisors in the study were not told (and were forbidden to find out) if the stone that a test-subject wore was a kunzite, pink diamond, morganite or amethyst. In the following 5 years, the highest rate of pregnancies was recorded amongst the witches that wore the Kunzite. It is unknown if the stone works by boosting fertility/ virility or if it works by strengthening the bond between the couple. _

_It is perhaps of interest to the mineral enthusiast, that the same study also indicated that the witches wearing amethyst had the lowest incidence of childbirth. This adds value to the belief that the amethyst protects its wearer against seduction. For further details on how Queen Cleopatra is said to have switched between these two stones to flummox her suitors, see Amethyst on pg. 102. _

~o~

By the end of the page, Hermione was feeling decidedly culpable. Draco had not been 'paying' her. He'd been trying to be uncharacteristically thoughtful! No wonder she had been surprised.

Still, it didn't excuse her behavior. Draco had remembered the crystal she had used in the Himalayas, had taken her there for the most romantic getaway and given her a gift that she had thrown back, literally in his face. She winced. No wonder he had been upset.

Hermione lifted the pendant into the light of dawn, the rays piercing her window to flood her room in the very color of the brilliant kunzite. She noticed that the crystal had its deepest violet-pink color from the culet on the front, but if she looked at it from the facets on the sides, it looked green. That touched something in her heart and without conscious thought, she found herself unclasping the delicate chain and resting it around her neck. She walked over to the mirror and saw the gorgeous facets reflect the pink of the rising sun and felt the warmth (yes, warmth!) of the stone as it nestled against her heart, between her breasts. She took a deep breath. Perhaps her first in this last month. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination, her state of mind or the stone itself, but she felt the warmth spread through her heart and into her body, releasing the stress she hadn't known she'd hoarded in her muscles. She felt her tensed shoulders drop relaxed, and saw the glow that bathed her face. She felt at peace.

And then she saw the time. So she scrambled to get ready for work! She chose a pink, boat-neck sweater that went exceptionally well with the pendant, as she had no desire to take it off. Then she threw a scarf over it at the last moment. It was too private for her to want to share with the world. She hastily ate a bowl of cereal and flooed to work, taking note of how dramatically her life had changed since she'd left work last Friday, on December 31st.

Her day went by in a daze, as there was a surprising amount of work. By the evening, she was thoroughly irritated with herself. Every time an owl flew in, she looked up expectantly. Not finding Draco's eagle owl upset her just a tad, even though he had said he'd be busy today. She knew she had to take the initiative this time and made an exception to her 'no personal errands at work' rule. At 4pm she wrote a simple note in her neat writing. Though it took several wasted parchments to get it just right.

_I'd like for us to talk._

There, that was simple, clean. Not overly needy. Not apologetic, but still conciliatory enough. It would have to do. She used her ministry-assigned owl to send it at 6:05pm. She was stuck here at work and didn't want to delay sending the owl any further. Perhaps if Draco got the message in time, he'd be able to meet tonight. The owl came back at 7:38 pm, without a reply. Hermione winded up her work and left by 8:15pm, heading to her gallingly quiet home.

She tossed and turned that night, already missing his hard warmth. Also his breathing, his heartbeat, his chest as a pillow, his unique mountain smell and his enveloping arms, even their sarcastic banter. The first thing she did when she got up the next morning was check if there was an owl waiting for her, but there wasn't. She hadn't taken the pendant off, perhaps that had helped her feel calmer than she otherwise would have? She got ready and went to work. She was working on a student exchange program between pure-blood and muggle-born wizard's families, which spanned across Europe. The student's safety in a strange city was of primary concern and she was part of the screening board for the participating families.

By 5pm, when she still hadn't heard from Draco, Hermione felt quite edgy. She debated with herself and refused to give into the urge to send him another owl. She'd extended a truce, if he didn't want to accept it... _fine_!

On her way home, Hermione picked up pizza and a chocolate molten lava cake from her favorite bakery. And chips and soda. As a rule, she didn't have any of the junk food at home, but now seemed a good time as any to indulge in some comfort food. Once she'd settled on her couch with her food on a TV-tray, she flipped through the channels and chose to watch _Pride and Prejudice_, yet again. She found herself sorely identifying with the explosive exchanges between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett. The movie ended and Hermione sat wistfully, wondering if her life would be less complicated, if she too were to sacrifice her pride for the sake of improved communication. She hadn't let a soul know she'd fancied him all this time; for some years in between, she'd managed to conceal it remarkably well, even from herself! Some good _that_ had done her.

She grabbed a scroll and wrote just one word, neatly.

_Draco?_

No top marks for 'communication', but at least she was learning to stifle her ego. One baby step at a time.

At 8:30 pm, Hermione changed into business casuals, just in case she bumped into someone, and flooed over to the ministry owlery. She was glad she had around-the-clock access to the ministry's owling service. She chose a small burrowing owl and gave it a treat, petting it on his head as she told him to wait for a reply and return to her flat.

Hermione was sipping hot chocolate from a warm mug in her study, when the owl returned at 9:07pm. She gave it another treat and told it to stay the night so it wouldn't have to brave the snow again. She had already set out an old woolen shawl on her desk and some water and food in small bowls. The owl hooted at her gratefully as it snuggled into the shawl, settling in for the night.

Hermione set aside the green satin ribbon carefully and rolled opened the scroll, feeling a little jittery. There, in his messy, impatient writing were two short sentences that elicited both expectation and trepidation.

_I'm at the Manor. The floo is open._

Hermione took a deep breath. She did not want to go to Malfoy Manor. She'd never seen it and though she was curious about where Draco had grown up, she didn't have any pleasant memories of Lucius or Narcissa. Yes, they had both suffered at the hands of their master, but it was a master they had chosen to follow for most of their lives. Lucius had died soon after being released from Bellatrix's home, perhaps too soon to be able to completely rid himself of the ill-will he elicited amongst Order members. Thereafter, Narcissa had worked with Draco to help rebuild the Malfoy name back to its former glory. Now the name wielded even more power than before, considering it was backed with respect and goodwill, instead of threats and fear. Narcissa had gotten involved in numerous charities, even contributing largely to the W.I.C.H student tuition fund, and she interacted with Hermione cordially enough at social occasions. However, Hermione had never attempted to breach the personal boundaries that regally guarded Narcissa and Narcissa had never invited such liberties from Hermione. No, there was no love lost between the two.

Hermione figured this invitation to the Manor was some kind of test of wills. Draco wasn't going to make this easy on her. He would know her reluctance to step into his domain, but he was making it clear- if she wanted him, she'd have to go to him.

Hermione was still in the black skirt and blue V-neck sweater that she'd worn earlier and figured they were as good clothes as any to visit the infamous, royal residence. She headed to her fireplace and threw in some floo powder.

"Malfoy Manor"

Hoping to return unscathed, she stepped into the fire.

* * *

PS: I've taken artistic license; _magically enhancing_ the properties of kunzite. Please don't start throwing your crystals to the floor, or grinding them up for nefarious purposes! Hmm, if you do and it works, send a holler, will ya?

PS2: Ooh, first quarrel! Well, had to happen sometime, eh? Now how will he react when she gets there? Will she make it back in one piece? What do _you_ think?


	17. not an update

I'm sorry this isn't an update on the story. It's a rant, perhaps once you read, you'll understand why it's so personal and why I felt the need to share it here with the readers from around the world.

For those who may not be familiar, Mumbai is the financial and entertainment capital not just of India, but to a certain degree, the Asia-Pacific region; it's like New York City and LA rolled together. I don't know if you've heard about the terrorist attacks in Mumbai, India that killed about 100 people and targeted US and British citizens. Terrorists attacked 3 very prominent 5-star hotels, the police-station and hospital close to the area, a major railway-station, a popular restaurant frequented by international tourists. They also targeted several other places- about **10** in all… in a coordinated attack to shake the country and the world the night before Thanksgiving, before a major cricket tournament and at a time when the economy could have used some help, not more tragedies. There was a bomb blast at a gas station and they hijacked a police-van and opened fire on people who least suspected an attack from a police vehicle. The terrorists stormed the hotels and started checking passports for US and British citizens. Even as I write this, there is a hostage situation at 3 venues- at the Taj and Oberoi hotels and at the Cama hospital for women and children. It's been going on for more than 24 hours now.

See, I went to college in Mumbai. My sister works in one of the hotels that was attacked; she knows people who were killed there last night, some of her immediate colleagues are still being held hostage. At one time, I used to take trains from VT (CST) station almost every day. So needless to say I'm upset. To put it mildly. Thankfully my sister and her family are safe. I have also been able to get in touch with most of my relatives and friends, and they are fine.

At times like these I realize that the world has it's own Death Eaters, and many, many shades of Voldemort. It would be so easy at this time to get angry to lash out and lay blame on different shoulders, but we can't… that would only make things worse.

What I feel we need to do is make sure that we do everything we can to not give in to hate. To do all we can to teach our children to not give in to hate. To go out of our way to be patient and open minded with the people of different beliefs so they can see that everyone is the same.

I find it unfathomable that individuals could be led astray to the extent that they were, all in the name of beliefs. I find it hard to understand how any God would condone such mindless violence and victimization of innocent lives. This attack was meant to create terror and it succeeded. Mumbai will survive, it always does, it is resilient like that. The scars though, I hope, will not fester enough to spark another set of religious riots like the ones in previous instances. The last time there were riots after a series of bomb blasts, thousands of people died.

JKR's Voldemort said "It's about power and people too weak to use it." These terrorists weren't shy to use their guns to cause cataclysmic chaos. They knew they would definitely die, unfortunately they think it will be to go to heaven into the arms of a hundred virgins. The organizations that funded this Mujjahiddin attempt will give money and respect to the 'martyrs' families. India has had more terrorist attacks like these this year than ever before. My American, Pakistani and Indian friends are all equally concerned about the situation, and I'm profoundly grateful for their support. The foresighted predict that politically tensions are likely rise between India and Pakistan again, causing the countries to increase their military presence on the borders. This would mean that Pakistan will have to divert much needed military and intelligence from their cities and tribal areas where they are currently trying to curtail the activities and training of the Al Qaeda factions. Oh, I guess that's all good then? No, it isn't, is it? See, these attacks don't just affect India or America or Britain or Pakistan. They affect the world.

We are at the precipice of very scary events. Hopefully we can limit it to these- 'events'. I'm rubbish at history, but wasn't it a series of 'events' that set off the previous World Wars? No, I am not predicting doomsday or the end of the world. Many countries have had such attacks over the past decade and been resilient enough to grow stronger for it. hopefully we'll be able to steer ourselves into more constructive habits rather than destructive ones.

History tells us that men are idiotic- they get passionate over power or land or religion or money or women and they forget that they are humans and the others around them are humans and they give in to their animalistic tendencies. What I'm saying is that we have to insulate our selves as best as we can from such tendencies. We need to do as much as we can to make sure less children are orphaned and fall prey into the hands of factitious leaders who brain-wash these impressionable minds into becoming suicide bombers. We need to insulate ourselves from the narrow-mindedness that isolates others. We need to accept that 'different' isn't bad and no one religion has the monopoly over the one true God.

It is time to make bridges, not burn them. It is time to contribute to the world in whatever way we can to improve it. To find our individual mission in life to improve humanity as a whole.

I can write ok, so I felt I had to write now. I'm sorry if I offended anyone, I promise that was not my intent. I hoped to help sow a seed. I hope to help people glean that perhaps being humane is more important than being religious.

Once again i apologize for using this as a platform to air my views. I will update this weekend. Hopefully you'll still be interested in the story. Oh and feel free to send me your opinions, or flames about this rant.

Peace and strength. And a happy Thanksgiving.

Diagonally

* * *

news update on Nov 27: The death toll from the series of coordinated attacks thus far stands at 125, including foreigners authorities said. Casualities include citizens from the following countries: Italy, America, Australia, Britian, Japan, Germany and ofcourse India. Among those still held captive in all three buildings were Americans, British, Italians, Swedes, Canadians, Yemenis, New Zealanders, Spaniards, Turks, a Singaporean and Israelis. Also among the dead was Hemant Karkare, the chief of the Mumbai police's anti-terror squad, and as many as 11 police officers.

My prayers with everyone affected.


	18. The Study

To my kind Reviewers, a _biiiiiig_ THANK YOU. I am so sorry I haven't had the chance to personally reply to recent reviews, but please know that your words were balm to my soul. Without you, there truly would be no inspiration to continue with this story.

AN: For those of you who wrote to me in support of my last post, you have become a most intimate network that makes my life so much richer. I am grateful beyond words. To everyone who read and is now back for the story, thank you much for your patience. I am leaving the last post as is for 2 reasons: one, because if I delete that and just post a new chapter there instead, I dunno if people will get alerts. The second reason being that I'd like it there as a monument to the 150+ people that died and the 300+ injured. I would feel guilty removing it, as ever-so-often, it is very easy for me, as it is for many of us, to Forget. Tragic headlines grab our attention for a few days and then we move on… as we should, but not without taking some lessons with us. I take this "find your mission and do something to improve the world" concept very, very seriously. So I have to practice what I preach. I have to leave it there, hoping that if it makes 1 reader think and it affects 1 person's life in a positive way, it could affect all the lives that 1 person touches. I know I'm not making sense right now… but I haven't slept much recently and I'm in a hurry to update. So I'll take my very wise beta's advice / invitation to happily grill hot-dogs over any flames my very valuable readers decide to send my way. Though, I decided to be a vegetarian about 13 years ago (because I read a book that was very honest about animal rights: it told me animals have the rights to live.) so it'll have to be soy-dogs. Yes, I'm one of those. Too bloody empathetic for my own good. But if you knew me in real life, you'd never guess it- very corporate, I can be.

Aah, off come my preaching robes, never to be donned again in the remainder of the fic. You have my most solemn promise. Of course one of my characters may have some words of wisdom to dispense, Dumbledore style. But I doubt it. This fic is going to remain mostly fluff, angst, drama and a little suspense- because Draco will always be a mystery to me. A most tantalizing mystery.

-0-

Disclaimer: JKR wrote the HP stuff. I've kidnapped Draco. I don't think she really loved him as much as I do, so don't think she'll mind.

Thank you to the most beloved Dixie Charmer: beta, muse, wiki, dictionary, therapist, friend.

* * *

**Previously on Heir-Brained**

H: …"Let's see. We're having sex. We are planning a baby out of wedlock. … I, however, refuse to be your mistress. …You do not pay me for services rendered."

D: "…The last time I had to pursue someone was, let me think… _never_! … this morning, I left you chirpy as a songbird. A day in bleeding-heart Potter's company and I find you morose and jumpy in the evening. …I had ascertained that we would face our share of resistance in others, regarding this arrangement Granger, but I had not foreseen you being this difficult." …"Perhaps you don't want this after all?"

D: "Granger, why can't you be normal sometimes? … You make up your mind about what you want and let me know."

… Hermione sat wistfully, wondering if her life would be less complicated, if she too were to sacrifice her pride for the sake of improved communication.

_I'm at the Manor. The floo is open._

Hermione took a deep breath. She did not want to go to Malfoy Manor. …Hermione had never attempted to breach the personal boundaries that regally guarded Narcissa and Narcissa had never invited such liberties from Hermione. No, there was no love lost between the two.

Hermione figured this invitation to the Manor was some kind of test of wills. Draco wasn't going to make this easy on her. He would know her reluctance to step into his domain, but he was making it clear- if she wanted him, she'd have to go to him…. She headed to her fireplace and threw in some floo powder.

"Malfoy Manor"

Hoping to return unscathed, she stepped into the fire.

* * *

**The Study**

As Hermione stepped out from the fireplace at Malfoy Manor, she looked around to find a beautiful reception area. _They have a lavishly decorated hall, the size of an auditorium, JUST to receive guests. Figures._

A small house elf appeared next to her, dressed in the finest uniform a maid could expect to wear. The elf bowed to Hermione and smiled warmly. "Good Evening Miss, I is Misty. Miss be seeing Master Draco today, yes? Master Draco told Misty you be coming, Miss. Misty will take Miss to the study, yes?"

Hermione smiled at the friendly elf, "Good Evening Misty. Yes, I'd like to see Draco, please." Hermione followed the elf as she led the way out of the huge hall into a passageway that led to three different directions.

Misty giggled as Hermione took his name and covered her smile with her large hands. "Sorry Miss. Misty excited. You are first lady friend Master Draco has invited home. Misty excited for Master Draco!" Then Misty covered her mouth with her hand again, as if petrified that she'd revealed too much about her master.

Hermione looked down at the elf, surprised. She was the first woman he'd asked into the manor? That helped her confidence level. She touched the pendant against her heart, a habit she had developed in the last 24 hours.

"Have you worked here long Misty?" Hermione wanted to fill the silence with conversation, as Misty looked like she was searching for an adequate surface to bang her head. The distraction worked and Misty immediately looked excited again.

"Yes Miss, Misty be working at Malfoy Manor for many years. Misty is here when master Draco is just a little baby, Misty his first friend!"

"Oh!" Hermione looked at the house-elf again, looking for signs of age that she may have missed before, because of her natural youthful exuberance. Hermione knew that house elves lived easily to the age of 250 yrs, if not more. So in elf years, Misty could still be equivalent to a 20 year old.

Hermione was wondering exactly how inappropriate it would be to ask Misty about Draco's childhood, when she saw Narcissa. The majestic woman stood at the landing of an enormous and intricately carved marble staircase, as if just starting to ascend. Narcissa seemed as surprised as Hermione felt ill at ease.

"Ms Granger! Is everything all right?" Narcissa's typically placid features broke to betray concern.

Hermione felt a blush rise on her face as she replied, "Yes Mrs. Malfoy, everything is fine. I just needed to talk to Draco about something and he asked me to floo over."

Hermione bore the scrutiny of Narcissa's speculative gaze rather well, or so she hoped. Narcissa's intelligent eyes stayed a second longer at the large kunzite pendant than necessary. Hermione's embarrassment turned into mortification. If you show up to meet a debonair playboy at his house, at 9:30 pm, there aren't many conclusions to be drawn about the intent. Hermione knew exactly what conclusion Narcissa was drawing and the worst of it was that Hermione couldn't act righteously indignant; the conjecture would be right on the mark!

Narcissa looked down toward Misty and spoke gently but authoritatively, "Misty, I'll take Ms Granger to Draco. Is he in his bedroom?"

"No mam, master be in the study." Misty looked a little nervous at the turn of events and hovered for a bit behind them, as they headed up the stairs. Narcissa finally had to dismiss her kindly. "Misty, I know Draco must have asked you to bring Ms Granger up to the study, but she'll be safe with me. You may leave."

Hermione felt her anxiety mount and felt herself holding on to the pendant again. Narcissa wasn't saying anything but Hermione could feel the waves of disapproval flowing from her. This would have been funny if it wasn't so awkward. Hermione and Draco were adults, and didn't need anyone's permission for anything. Still, the values that Hermione had grown up with had her feel a little off balance right now. And just like Misty, Hermione wasn't entirely sure if she was safe with Narcissa either. She smirked at that thought.

The walk to the study was long but fortunately there was much to see along the way. The manor was gorgeous. It was formal and gracefully decorated without being ostentatious or pretentious. There were beautiful murals and Ming vases, crystal sculptures and stained-glass lamps. Most of the life-sized portraits stared at her coldly as she passed by, but thankfully, didn't utter a single slur regarding her blood-status.

_Must have been forbidden by Draco_.

She did see an ancient regal portrait of a middle-aged man, attempting very hard to say something, but it looked like the paint had glued his lips together, to deny him the liberty. So he glared at her, waving his arms around frantically to let her know what he thought of her. Hermione grinned back at him and when their backs were turned to the painting and she was sure Narcissa couldn't see, she showed him a hand gesture that would be considered very unseemly by her mother. Apparently the livid old man didn't consider it very seemly either. There was a crash heard as he fell out of his chair in an apoplectic farce and then proceeded to run along them, crossing over into the neighboring canvasses, the residents throwing up their hands to protect themselves from his agitatedly waving arms. Hermione heard a snicker from one of the portraits behind her and Narcissa looked back towards the paintings, a warning clear in her eyes.

Hermione's walk of shame finally concluded outside a set of large wooden double-doors. Narcissa knocked and waited for Draco curt response before she entered, gesturing for Hermione to follow. "Draco, you have a guest."

Draco looked up from his large antique desk at the two women, his eyes and face completely expressionless. "Yes mother, thank you for bringing Hermione in." He met Narcissa's questioning gaze with a calm dismissal.

Narcissa looked at her son with concern evident in her eyes. "Draco, qu'est-ce que tu fais?"

Hermione was surprised at Narcissa use of French to converse with Draco. Was that where he got the habit, to fall into French, when they were intimate? There had been nothing intimate about Narcissa's "Draco, what are you doing?" though she had certainly appeared protective enough. Perhaps she had felt the need to resort to a familiar language that she assumed Hermione wouldn't understand.

Draco looked like he wouldn't say anything, like he would just wait for Narcissa to get tired and leave. Hermione now understood where Draco got his stubborn streak. A lesser human would have trembled under Draco's dismissive look and left ages ago, feeling properly chastised for daring to intrude. Narcissa stood there, as royal as Draco, as if putting a naughty child in place.

Hermione had known it would have been odd to come here, but this was getting too uncomfortable. She took a step back towards the door but Draco moved his gaze to her now. "Hermione, please have a seat." His tone brooked no argument.

Draco looked back at his mother and politely dismissed her just as effectively she had dismissed Misty. "Mother, everything is as it should be. Hermione and I need to discuss some matters of importance. Don't worry about sending us coffee or dessert. If we need anything, we'll ring for an elf. I won't keep you any longer from your sleep, Goodnight."

Narcissa's expression went blank now, as well screened as Draco's. "Of course, I was just afraid something untoward had occurred." She looked calmly from Draco to Hermione and wished them goodnight on her way out.

Hermione walked over to where Draco sat and dropped into a large brown leather chair across the meticulously carved desk. She felt extremely discomfited and hid her face in her hands. She sat there like that for a few seconds and finally peeked out from behind her fingers to observe Draco. He was still sitting the same way, relaxed, leaning back in his chair; he looked the same, nonchalant, calm and masked.

Hermione brought her hands down and looked around the room, for the first time noticing her surroundings. There were enough books here to put the Ministry library to shame. She got up excitedly, forgetting for a moment what she was here for, and explored her environs. She could spend years here and still not read all the books! There was a whole wall dedicated to defense against the dark arts, a whole section devoted to Quidditch (no surprises there), an entire row of shelves for tomes on charms and she even saw a shelf labeled 'Wizarding Universe: Magic in Alien life'. She was itching to go see all the sections and all the labels but then a noise from behind brought her back to reality. Draco had just opened a book and put on a pair of glasses, which made him look even more suave than before. Hermione hadn't believed _that_ possible.

She walked over closer to him and he looked up from his hardbound edition of 'Essays on Vampire Behavior'. She too had read the book, a paperback version, when she'd heard of the rising vampire attacks in Australia. She went to stand on his right, leaning back against the edge of his desk… unsure how to start. When she didn't say anything, he started reading his book again.

"Draco, don't."

He looked up, "Don't what, Granger?"

"Don't make this any more awkward for me than it already is."

He set his book aside and gave her his attention. "You wanted us to talk?"

"Yes, I wanted to apologize. I over-reacted yesterday."

Draco still looked unaffected, but he eyed her pendant for a brief moment. Hermione touched it again and continued, "The Kunzite is beautiful. It was a very thoughtful gift. Thank you."

Draco didn't say a word. He looked at her, his head tilted to his right, as if weighing something in his mind.

By now Hermione had had enough. She'd done as much as her ego would allow. When he just looked away and reached for his pile of correspondence, she felt the stirrings of anger, and assumed it was time to leave. She stood up straight, leaving the support of the desk. Before she could step away, she felt a firm, cool hand wrap around her wrist, holding her in place. Still not looking at her, Draco picked up the parchments on his desk with his free hand and put them in a drawer that he proceeded to lock. He removed his glasses with his very graceful hand and her eyes were drawn to the long sensitive fingers. She remembered what enchantment those fingers were capable of yielding in her and gulped. Draco then swiveled his chair around so he was now directly in front of her. There was a massive, ornate fireplace behind her; the firelight danced golden in his eyes, as they studied her body with lazy insolence. His hand tugged her closer, till she was standing between his parted legs. Hermione's breathing altered. She felt tingles go up her legs where they brushed his. She felt the electricity when his free hand started reaching up her leg, under her skirt, going higher… higher. She felt herself pooling with warmth as his hands skimmed the inside of her thigh. She felt her spine arch as he caressed her core.

Neither said a word. Draco pulled her even closer to rest his forehead on her chest. Hermione's arms went around him on their own accord, one hand through his baby soft hair as the other molded the sinewy muscles along his shoulder. The tactile contrast of his soft cashmere sweater over his taut body brought a head rush she couldn't explain.

In one smooth move, Draco got up and had set Hermione on the desk in front of him, her legs straddling him. Tonight, his touches weren't warm and gentle. Tonight it was demanding lips and strong, almost painfully firm hands. Draco pulled his hands through her hair and yanked her head back, not hard enough to hurt her, but hard enough to get her adrenaline flowing. Hermione was getting to see a side of Draco she hadn't seen for a long time, the dangerous side that people warned her about. She tried to push him back with her body, to get off the desk, but he was like a rock, he didn't budge. He caught both her hands in one of his and effortlessly carried them above and then behind her neck, handcuffing them there. With her arms positioned like that, Hermione could see her chest heave with each slow breath. With his free hand Draco opened the buttons of her sweater, one by one, with slow precision, his eyes following his actions as if it were a delicate operation requiring infinite concentration. Once that was done, Draco put his hands up under her white cotton shirt, yanking it outwards so the buttons popped off, scattering all over the floor. Hermione gasped.

Neither said a word. Draco smiled at what he saw. He opened the front-clasp white lace bra and let her breasts free, smiling as he examined his spoils and the pendant tucked between. Hermione struggled against him again, trying to free her hands, but she only managed to rub against him, the friction heating up things even more, in her and also very obviously, in him.

"Granger, if you want me to stop, all you have to do is say the word." His indolent drawl and his roaming hand sent shivers up her spine. He looked at her with a challenge in his eyes. She struggled against him some more, which meant her core rubbed against his now hard length. She bent her head towards his neck and bit him there, hard. He yanked her hands and head back and grinned. "Bitch." He made it sound like praise, and she took it as such.

Hermione felt Draco's free hand go up her skirt and around her hip. He pulled her forward roughly, onto almost the edge of the table and rubbed against her. She couldn't have known if her body, clothes on, mimicked the act of lovemaking for 2 minutes or 2 hours. She was in a trance-like state and only came to when he stepped back for a very long… long… long time. He opened his belt and trouser button and pulled down his trousers, all the while maintaining a tight hold over her hands behind her neck. She didn't need soft words of reassurance or the comfort of a soft bed. She needed her hands, so she could touch him, now. She tried to wrestle free, her whole body wriggling against his in the effort, but his clasp just got tighter, so she stopped. She looked up at him, her eyes wild, her breath shaky, insides aching with a need she recalled from unfulfilled dreams. She wouldn't say it, but he saw her begging. So he didn't remove her knickers, just moved the material aside, and entered her. He took her there, amongst the echoing walls of the ancient library.

Neither said a word, but the wanton scream that escaped Hermione's lips made some sharp elf-ears wriggle and blush. Master was getting some, all right!

Later, as Hermione collapsed against him, he finally let her hands go, and this time kissed her deeply and gently. He smiled apologetically at the torn shirt and folded the front together, buttoning her sweater up. He buttoned his pant, did his belt and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, carrying her to a corner in the study. He pressed a concealed button on the floor and a door swiveled open, leading to a moving, spiraling staircase. She had only seen these kinds of secret passageways and moving stairways in Hogwarts, but realized she shouldn't have been surprised; Malfoy Manor had been built centuries ago, when these secret routes were planned all over the domiciles of royalty, in case a sudden escape was required.

Draco got off the stairs two floors above and walked through a well-lit passageway that seemed surprisingly different in décor than the house she had seen so far. There were no antiques or crystals here. Instead the interiors were all done up in sharp colors, straight lines, brilliantly blown glass and contemporary style. She looked at him questioningly.

"My wing."

_Huh, he has a whole wing. Of course he does._

"Draco, I _can_ walk you know?"

"Can you? Only, you don't look like you can." He smirked at her.

Hmm, her knees did feel sorta weak.

Draco opened a door and with a non-verbal spell and turned on the lamps in what she assumed was his room. Hermione looked around and was taken by surprise. She had expected an over-indulgence in silver and green. Instead she saw black and white. Black curtains, ebony furniture, black accessories, black and white paintings, and lots of gray too. The straight lines and sharp edges theme carried over here, and everything seemed very modern, very contemporary. Instead of seeming stark though, it was strangely soothing. As if one could come here to escape from the stimulus of the outside world and just... be.

Black silk sheets. She was unceremoniously dumped on a bed with a very high rectangular black leather headboard. And black silk sheets. The bed was the softest she'd ever laid on; it was like she melted in. She smiled up at him. "I can't stay you know, I don't have any clothes."

"Why would you need clothes?" He appeared genuinely amused.

"I didn't get my toothbrush."

"I can manage a toothbrush, Granger."

"We both have to go to work tomorrow."

"Yes, and we both need to sleep so stop bickering and hurry up brush. Everything you need should be in a basket next to the sink."

Hermione looked at him surprised, "You were prepared for a guest?"

"I was prepared for you. Now scoot." He nudged her towards the direction of a door, which she guessed was his bathroom. Inside, the black, silver and gray theme continued in granite and chrome. There was a huge glass shower stall, big enough to fit four. It even had a bench along a wall and more jets than she could count. There was a tub the size of a king-sized bed. And the sinks were beautiful bowls carved into rough stone. The floor was made of polished river pebbles and in one corner was a waterfall. A waterfall!! Not a fountain, a waterfall! There was a granite bench under that too, inviting her to go and sit under the water for a while. She couldn't resist testing the temperature of the water, and it was perfect; just a little warmer than body temperature, not too cool and not too warm. She couldn't resist it, she disrobed and waded in towards the natural rock-bench. She let the force of the water massage her tensed shoulders and slowly felt her muscles let go. With her eyes dreamily closed, her face wistfully turned and the soothing white noise of the waterfall lulling enough, she didn't hear the bathroom door open; or then, after about a minute or so, close.

Hermione finally forced herself out and wrapped herself in the lush white towel she found laid out on a heated rail close by. She made her way to the sink where a beautiful silver-wired basket provided her with a toothbrush, among other things. There was a large black silk robe under the basket and she changed into it, hanging her clothes on the satin covered hangers that she found under the robe.

As she re-entered the room, she found the lamps had been tuned off and there were white candles burning on about a dozen glass posts that jutted out from the walls. One of the walls that had been covered behind black curtains before was now revealed to be French windows that led to a balcony. The balcony was not covered in snow, which probably meant some kind of awning or roof cover above, but she couldn't see it. All she could see beyond the balcony was a beautiful snow-laden lawn that stretched on forever. The moon and stars played with the colors of the night to paint hues that seemed perfectly coordinated with the décor in the room.

"How do you ever leave this room? It's so… Zen." Hermione smiled down at Draco as he got up from the bed for his turn in the bathroom. He smiled back as he shut the door.

Time alone meant time to think and Hermione was always too good at that for her own good. His mom was in the house. His _mother_! _She_ knew. She _knew_! Hermione cringed at the thought. Oh well, it's not like his mother could have mistaken him for a monk. Hermione wished Misty hadn't told her that she was the first woman Draco had called home. Then she changed her mind. It was a relief and a pleasure to own that she was the only woman to have been naked for him in his study, the only woman to be brought to his bedroom; the only woman to wear his robe. It didn't matter how many women he had slept with before, she was the first one to sleep in _his _bed. That mattered. She mattered to him. That made her gloriously happy.

She was lost in these thoughts, looking blankly out the window into the endless night when she heard him approach behind her. He hugged her from behind, snuggling her neck and ticking her ear with his breath. "Come to bed." He said sleepily and took her hand as he led them to his enormous bed. His bed.

Yes, she was incandescently happy. He had that effect on her.

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D says: Please let me know what you think of this effort!


	19. The Many Shades of Grey

Disclaimer: It's JKR's. But Draco will be MINE (evil laugh)! And no, I don't make money from fantasizing about him. If _that _worked we'd all be millionaires by now, yeah?

Credit to HarryPGinnyW4eva, whose hilarious and much-loved fic (Love and Forgiveness) has our very sexy Draco call our beloved heroine "Mi"… most endearing, wouldn't you say? The story's amazing, check it out.

Much thanks to Dixie Charmer who is the most brilliant Super-Beta ever! Amongst other things, she helped me realise that Narcissa's complex psyche deserves deeper delving into.

Thank you sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much for all who reviewed chapter 17 (in order of posting)…

peaceloveberries, Natcch, dixiecharmer, bcain17, Michelle Amethyst, Frozen Darkness, icantlivewithoutharrypotter, ginnylovesharry07, SPIRITnJOY, tfobmv18, mentarisenja, Italian Rose, Li0n3ss, HarryPGinnyW4eva, DaOnLeeSam, xCailinNollaigx, nathy7, Viking1310, Bjornsdotter and Simkey

20 reviews???? Wow!!!!! I've never had 20 reviews for one chapter before!!! LOVE IT, LOVE IT, LOVE IT! You made me so happy you have no idea!!! Like Kuroi Tsuki Jyurian just said… "Skwee!" {(She also kindly informed me it indicates squealing in manga (anime?)}

_Oh and if this chapter feels like a filler, I don't blame you. Seriously though, this chapter was getting to be over 17 pages, so had to split it up! More importantly, my awesome beta came up with a wonderful idea that we're gonna incorporate… so it's taking some time to get the latter part as nice as I hope you will think it. I posted the part we'd finished working on just to appease you guys. So bear with me, yeah? Thanks much!! AND I've tried to fix the spacing in the text about 7 times, but unsuccessfully. so bear with that too please? Patience is a virtue I'm told. wouldnt know.  
_

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**The Many Shades of Grey**

Morning seeped in sanguinely languid. Draco's hands were feathering her face with butterfly touches as he watched her eyelids flutter to content wakefulness. He wore a cat-got-cream smile as she looked up at her sun.

"You have to admit I was right," he alleged confidently.

"About what?" Hermione caressed his forehead, moving aside the silken hair that fell into his heart-melting, morning-sky-blue eyes. She wondered how his eyes changed color so often and how she'd never noticed the blue in them before. She wondered if he used magic to entrance her.

"My way beats the hell out of the muggle baby-clinic way." He grinned down at her wolfishly and she couldn't help but grin back.

"I don't know about that. At least they'd let me sleep peacefully through the nights."

"Like you'd take sleep over sex any day. I'm on to you Granger, underneath the garb of the proper nun, you are an extremely wild animal. Exhibit A," he pointed to the scratch marks on his shoulder and back.

"Exhibit B…" he pointed to the hickey he had on his neck and the bite marks on his chest.

"And, let's not forget, exhibit C…" He pointed to her pebble-hard nipples

"Exhibit D…" to his unashamedly aroused member.

"Exhibit E…" to her engorging folds where his fingers now entered and created heaven.

"No," Hermione managed to croak, "These are not testimony enough. I'm not convinced. Not yet."

"Well then, I'll just have to work harder to prove my theory, won't I?"

Perhaps it was a good thing that they had arisen early, it seemed he had a lot to prove. They added compelling evidence to the exhibit collection. Later, there were pale bruises on Draco's wrists where she had held on with all her might, to force his hands into the captivity he'd forced on her in the study. Though, truth be told, she didn't consider herself half as masterful as him. Later, Draco mentioned to a blushing Hermione that those bruises on his wrists were his favourite exhibits so far.

~)(~

Draco and Hermione were sitting in their robes and sipping the tea that Misty had brought up for them. Hermione was flipping though the newspaper when he spoke.

"Come down for breakfast with my mother?"

Hermione sputtered over her beverage, spraying it over his lovely sheets. Why did he have to say the most unexpected things when she had liquids in her mouth? It was most inopportune to look this ungraceful in front of him.

"Come down with you? To have breakfast with your mother? Are you sure about that? Isn't it a little early to meet the parent?"

"Granger, we've known each other for over half our lives. Agreed, we hated each other for the majority of our adolescent years, but we have still managed to stay friends the past 8. My mother is perfectly aware that I owe my life to you and the Order. If for nothing else, she is grateful for that, and will act civil. I will not mislead you… she'll not be overjoyed when she finds that we plan for you to carry my heir. Especially, without the socially acceptable seal of matrimony. She will, however, eventually be grateful that you provided her the grandchild she's been plaguing me for. She cares for my happiness, and once she gets to know you, she'll care for you… in her own detached way, I presume." Draco then looked at her and shrugged like he'd just laid out the most logical, most infallible of arguments.

"Uh, Draco, not to be a coward or anything, but could you perhaps break our plans to her when I am not around? I don't want to witness her initial protests, or resent her for them. By the way, what happened to the hush-hush clause? I thought we were going all cloak-and-dagger about this, not tell anyone for a while."

"My mother is adept at keeping secrets, I can trust her with my life. She won't make this public." He said this part in a rather staccato tone.

Both the statement and his tone irked Hermione. Was he implying that her family or friends could not be trusted? Well, it was hollow to hope that he would suddenly metamorphose into an agreeable sort of a fellow. She didn't want to start another argument though, so she let it slide. It had been too perfect a morning to get riled up. So, she grinned instead.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather she gets over the shock by the time I have to interact with her. I'll let you have the pleasure of announcing to her that you're going to dilute the Malfoy pureblood lines with the utmost abandon. I'll even return the favor, I'll break it to my family, the Potters and the Weaselys, when the time is right. You won't have to bear that brunt. All of them versus Narcissa, that isn't a rotten deal and you know it."

Looking past her, Draco stared out the window, contemplating the snow-covered lawn. As if coming to a decision, he continued, "Mother doesn't care about bloodlines like father did. She fell in love with him and accepted him for who he was. She didn't necessarily agree with every belief he espoused, though she abided by his rules out of loyalty, to maintain his status amongst his peers. The Blacks have always been independent thinkers that way, consider Andromeda, Bellatrix, Sirius, Regulus, even Nymphadora. They all pretty much do what they deigned right for themselves, made up their own rules where and when necessitated. If mother had fallen in love with a muggle-born, like aunt Andromeda, I suspect that Lucius would've died a most painful death had he ever tried to harm the object of her affection. And that's saying something. She can be spectacularly ferocious when a loved one is threatened. Besides, I suspect she may find herself secretly thrilled with the idea of our alliance. She has a healthy respect for your intelligence and influence in the wizarding world. She'll probably reckon it an opportunity to create further goodwill for the Malfoy name."

Hermione was surprised at this insight into his mother's psyche. She'd somewhat supposed Narcissa to be the female equivalent of Lucius; a soul-less opportunist, intent on creating a power-base. Hermione had given her some benefit of doubt though, after all, having brought up Draco, Narcissa couldn't be _all that_ bad. Hermione reluctantly felt herself gaining some respect for Narcisaa, despite her belief that Lucius had possessed no redeeming quality that ought have made any sensible woman fall for him. One never knew though, she learnt something surprising about Draco everyday! Perhaps this is where he'd inherited his nonconformist ways? She felt particularly privileged that he'd deemed her close enough to share this intimate view of his mother. She had never before witnessed him breach his own personal boundaries like this. 'Family' had always been off limits.

"Not coming down, then?" He looked a little put out, so she scooted over to pat his hand gently.

"Can we please take baby steps? Your mother has just started talking to her own estranged sister. Tonks was telling me your moms got a chance to bond at a family re-union. And that's a good start, but perhaps we need to pace things reasonably for her as well? Let her get used to the _idea_ of me, before she has to get used to me. Besides, what you and I have is tenuous at best. Her doubts might just cement mine and chase me away. You want to risk that?" she smiled teasingly to take the sting out of her words.

Draco looked over his cup while sipping some tea and then said in a calm, _knowing_ voice, "You're not going anywhere I can't find you Granger. However, I accede that you may be right on this one. She obviously knows about us now, but maybe we should let her _mellow_ a bit. All right then, you're off the hook."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and jumped out of bed. She kissed his forehead on an impulse and then ran to the bathroom without turning to see how he'd reacted to the display of affection. She looked longingly at the waterfall but ignored it to head straight for the multi-jet wall shower she'd promised her self she'd try this morning. It felt even more divine than she had imagined, massaging her tired muscles so she felt the knots melting. She reluctantly got out and dressed quickly, left the items she'd used back in the basket, for the next time. At least, she hoped she'd be back.

When she went out, Draco was setting out his quidditch uniform on the bed. He walked over, took her hand and tucked her wet, wavy hair behind her ears. "You look edible, you know?"

She smiled shyly as she bade him a good day and headed to the bedroom door. Draco caught her hand and instead led her towards the far side of the room. For the first time, Hermione noticed that the apparent end to the very large room, was in fact a wall that concealed an entire separate section behind it. She hadn't realized that there was an adjoined suite. This part was more like her study at home. A fireplace here caught her attention.

"There is a fireplace here and you made me come the long way last night? Draco Malfoy, are you telling me I could have avoided that whole embarrassing incident?"

"C'mon Hermione, how would you have felt if I'd asked you to floo to my bedroom, after our little squabble? You'd have thought me presumptuous and cocky, admit it."

Hermione pondered on that and nodded, "You're right, I would have. So I'll let it go. I'll have you know though, that I'm thrilled that I don't have to take the same route the next time I come in!" And then Hermione blushed, "I mean, only when I'm invited of course."

Draco smiled guilelessly, "It's not that you have to wait for an invitation Mi, it's that I should be here to invite you. I travel so often that I'm out for half the year. But when I'm here, I suspect I'll find myself with you more often than not."

He looked behind her at the time, and then back at her in mock-anger "You'll ruin my reputation, Granger! I've never been late for a practice yet. Leave!" he turned her around and impertinently slapped her bottom.

Hermione grinned and flooed back to her apartment. She proceeded to have a most wonderful day.


	20. Mother Dearest

Diagonaly says: 1)**Happy New Year **to everyone! I hope you had lovely holidays and have a wonderful year ahead. 2) **Thank you so much for your patience** and for returning to this story.

3) Remember the brilliant idea my beta had? I am very excited to present this **30-paged chapter written by the fantabulous Dixiecharmer!** I have altered some details to suit the plot and character definitions... as I envision them. Dixie will also be posting this in her profile as an independent piece; that may be the unabridged version. Please remember to add her in your alerts; she is thinking up some superb stories which are sure to be mind-bogglingly imaginative and mind-splinchingly hilarious. (I have added her as one of my favourite authors, if you'd like the link.) Since I usually follow only Hermione as a narrator, it was fun to see this from Narcissa's POV. Enjoy!

**IMPORTANT: WE BETAED THE CHAPTER AND THEN LOST THE EDITED CHAPTER TO CYBERSPACE!! :( WE ARE EXTREMELY SORRY, we do not have the time to RE-EDIT the very long chapter right now, due to very busy professional and personal lives. ****It has been a month since I last posted and I didn't want to wait any longer to post, because readers were asking me to update fast.**

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**Dixiecharmer's AN**: As Draco will say, _she is a Black and Slytherin_. JKR said of Slytherins _they are cunning, go there and meet you true friend, they will do anything to succeed_. In this chapter Narcissa is still mourning the death of the man she loved. Narcissa, after the loss of most of her family wants a grandchild; she will try and protect her son's child and its mother. This is a woman who could control her husband with a touch of her hand, her son by a nod of her head. She wants to know more about the mother of her future grandchild. I see Severus as her true friend who is rebuilding his life and slowly finding his way as his own man. Who knows what the future will bring, cast the runes and see…

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**PLEASE BEAR WITH GRAMMATICAL ERRORS, SPELLING MISTAKES etc.**

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**Mother Dearest**

Draco slowly walked into the breakfast room. He smiled as he watched his mother who was sitting at the circular table, in her favorite chair. The morning sunlight bathed the room in a soft glow. It came from the window that gave her a view of the rose garden. Few people knew that this was her passion, the raising of the ever blooming Blue Rose. There was a single perfect Blue Rose bud in a leaded crystal cut glass vase, set beside her morning cup of hot chocolate. Draco had heard the story many times as a child, about how she had brought the rose cutting back from her honeymoon in France. It was there that she had developed the French taste for hot chocolate and buttered croissants for breakfast.

His eyes narrowed, there were two more place settings at the table. This would not be as easy as he thought. He needed to remember she was a Black and a Slytherin, she was smart and cunning. He strolled over to his mother and gave her shoulder a gentle touch as he wished her, "Good morning". Draco pulled out the ornately carved chair with the letter M forming the backrest, and sat next to her. (His hands are slightly damp, he is nervous. This might work out for the best)

Draco knew these chairs dated back to a great grandfather, who had selected this table and chair set for his new bride was a wedding present. In fact, his portrait graced the front entry way of the manor. It was rumored that the portrait was empty at night because he went to visit his bride's portrait in the blue parlor, often referred to as the family room, as that was where the portraits of the 'beloved' Malfoy wives where hung. Some of the other portraits were known to frown because they did not feel he kept up the family dignity. Draco had heard from Hermione that one of the portraits had 'giggled' last night; but he thought it was suppressed laughter from 'grand pere'.

Narcissa looked at her son with a slight smile on her face. (Hum, his pupils are starting to narrow, he is plotting something.)"Good Morning Draco." (Is that a glamour charm to hide a love bite… OH and bruises on his wrist? Trying to be subtle. By himself and she did not leave by the front door. What does the boy think he is playing at?)

"Belgian waffles and elfberrys... but I won't be able to eat too many, a seeker needs to keep weight down… or next thing you know you are a chaser, or worse, a beater."

(Yes, the pupils are starting to dilate, he does like the waffles and elfberrys. No charm there.)

"I don't think you would have that concern, you take after your father, he never had a weight problem. (He was so handsome in his Quidditch uniform, that night after the Slytherin Ravenclaw game, alone in the North Tower, his strong arms and his kisses, yes.) "Would you like some more tea with your breakfast?" (Will he react to 'more'?)

"Yes, thank you." (What is she playing at? That was a sigh I just heard, her eyes have dilated and there is a faint hint of pink, did my mother just blush? Damn, how do I bring up the fact that Hermione and I are planning to have a baby? What was it Hermione said after I got 'shot'? Yes, ' learn to dodge the bullet'.)

(Left cheek muscle twitched, that was his father's tell, YES, he is plotting something!)

Picking up a silver teaspoon with a rose embossed on the handle, Draco added a teaspoon of sugar and a dash of milk to the Antique Blue Colonel teacup by Spode which was from the 15th century. The tea set was his father's 18th anniversary gift to his mother. (Wait, the crystal vase was father's 15th anniversary gift, the Belgium lace table cloth was the 13th, the 5th was the wooden box on the mantel piece, the bronze statue of Morgana La Fey was the 8th, and the leather bound diary she has by her side to keep track of her social dates was the 3rd anniversary gift. Why does she keep these things here, where she has to see them every morning?)

(Right eyebrow arched, he is puzzled.)

He knew how much his mother had suffered during what she referred to as that 'unpleasant period'. She'd stood faithfully by his father's side, presenting a solid front to the world. (But why keep these things in her favorite room? She had done as much as she could to protect me from the backlash of the pureblood wizards. Wizards be damned, it was family first and foremost in mother's mind.) Draco picked up his teacup and took a swallow of his favorite tea, Earl Gray.

(Maybe I can use that to introduce mother to Hermione, as 'the mother of my future child', her grandchild. Mother you have no idea what I am going through right now. I just can't tell anyone, how deep the hippogriff shit is going to get. Maybe if I told Mother grandchildren and not grandchild, she will back down a little)

(Let's keep him off balance, he is starting to smile)

"Draco, the Hogwarts Governor's Ball is in three months and we need to send in our reservations for the number of seats we will need." (Eyes flashed, yes he was not expecting that.)

"Number of seats?"

"I plan to set with Severus, whom do you plan on taking as a date?" (Do I see the whites of his eyes, his pupil has contracted. hum?)

(An attack is a good defense)

"You plan on setting with Snape!"

"No, I plan on setting with Severus... your god-father... Well respected Potions Master Snape, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts." (Nice try my dear boy.) She reverted to a more moderate tone, " I will be setting with him at the head table. Now, will you be booking an entire table for your Quidditch team and their dates? (He blinked twice.) This is a fund raiser that we have supported for generations. Your father was a member of the Board of Governors, as was your grandfather Abraxas. You must remember that Phineas Nigellus Black, your great-great-great grandfather was a Headmaster at Hogwarts. We are expected to contribute to the support of Hogwarts."

"I will have to talk it over with my team and see how many will be able to attend, and I will get back to you."

"Yes, but will you be bringing a date?" (I have not forgotten, you did see the third plate my dear boy.) "Would you like me to arrange for you to set with Agatha Timms' daughter? The daughter does have spots, but a well cast glamour charm will cover them nicely. (Will he react to glamour charm?) I think her name is Zelda, Agatha owns that eel farm and can be counted on to make a sizable donation to Hogwarts." (Sudden swallow, his face is such an open book to me. Now wiggle out of that one.)

"Zelda? I do not remember a Zelda at Hogwarts" (No! Not the arranged date with an acceptable witch. Thinned lips, she is trying not to smile)

(The pulse at his temple is throbbing, yes, this is going very well. Let's go for the kill)

"I think when Agatha and I met for tea last week, that she said that Zelda is only 5 years older than you. Agatha also said as Zelda is her only child, she will inherit the eel farm. It was a shame that Zelda's first husband died so young from Dragon Pox. But Agatha is looking forward to help training her son-in-law in the husbandry (Did he react to husbandry?) of the eel farm." (If you grip that tea cup any harder you will break it.)

"NO!" (Thestral road apples! People who thought the Dark Lord was so horrible, never had to have breakfast with my mother in her match-making mood.)

"No?" (Yes! Now the TRUTH!)

(Her eyes are shinning, DAMN!)

"Mother" (Bollocks… that was too formal a tone. she is nodding her head. Why doesn't she just give me Godric Gryffindor's sword to fall on and get it over with?) "hummmm" Draco groaned.

(He is moaning and shaking his head, Yes! now I will hear it all)

(She is smiling, and nodding her head, I am doomed. I should have made Hermione come with me, then I could hide behind her, after all she is the one who wants the baby. This negotiation was not in my favor. How bad could a hex from Potter and Weasley hurt? I could have stood behind her when she told those two dolts. What was I thinking?)

"Hermione and I have agreed, well, really we have a contract."

(My dear boy, a marriage contract, how wonderful. Finally you are getting off that broom stick and down to business.)

"She wants to have a baby..."

(Of course you fool, she is a smart witch, you will have beautiful babies together. I wonder if she will want to have the wedding here, the rose garden is so...)

"...and I agreed to be the father..."

(Will you just tell me wedding date?)

"... so we agreed not to date others."

(that is what an engagement means)

"...until after the baby is born."

(WHAT !!!!)

( OH NO! Her pupils are the size of pin pricks; she is going into full attack mode. Apparate, Apparate, Damn the house wards, still here)

"Tell me exactly, what do you mean, not to date others until after the baby is born! You do not date other witches after you are MARRIED!" stormed Narcissa.

"The contract states..."

Narcissa interrupted, "Do not tell me you signed a marriage contract that allows either of you to date others after the wedding, Lucius and I did not raise you that way!!"

(Her eye brows just disappeared into her fringed bangs, lip's are as thin as a quill line, jaw is clenching, best check her wand hand. just paint me AK green, and be done with it)

In a contrite voice Draco responded, "No, we did not sign a wedding contract."

"Then what in the name of Morgana La Fey's crystal ball did you sign?" ( Now what has that devil's spawn gone and done. Deep cleansing breath, how do we rectify it? I should have put a full body bind on all those death eaters, when Lucius first brought them home years ago, and sent them down the River Styx. in one of Hagrid's leaky first year boats. This is my punishment. He learned this from THEM. I will soon take care of this nonsense. I will have my grand babies, and with the name MALFOY, before I am too old to show them off to those old hag's at the Witches Tea Social and Book Reading Club at Flourish & Blotts. OK. So I'm not a member; but I could be if I wanted to. Even Augusta Longbottom's grandson has managed to produce an off spring.)

The silence in the room was only broken by the sound of breathing. One, a measured inhale and exhale through the nose, as the jaw was locked shut. The other alternating between breathing in though the nose and out though the mouth. Later both would remember this as their definition of eternity

(think carefully, this will require a delicate touch.) Two minds same thought.

"Now, please tell me exactly where this contract is, we need a copy of the contract that you signed for the Malfoy records." (let me get my hands on that piece of parchment maybe I can find a loop hole that use to my advantage. Neither of these two children have the knowledge of what a contract requires. I will floo old Epherius Doggle, he helped with my wedding contract. He is one of the oldest member of the Wizengamot, if I can get him on my side, well, Yes, it is possible this can be dealt with. His eyes are not shifting so he is not going to lie.)

"We didn't actually _sign_ a contract." (her right hand, little finger has just tapped on the table, she has thought of something, Well I'm still alive, that is good, she is speaking in a reasonable tone and jaw is unclenched, OH NO. her head has risen two degrees, lips slightly compressed)

(YES! YES! No contract,)

"We just agreed on how we wanted to do this..."(she just tilted her head to the left...think, think is that positive or negative?) "we agreed that we both wanted a child

(Morgana Help!)

and that we would not date anyone else during the year we were trying to ..."

(I'm waiting)

"... conceive the baby. The baby would be my heir and also have my name."

( This I can work with.) "First we need to check to see if any past Malfoy's have place a curse on any such child to prevent a bastard from inheriting."

"Mother, careful." Draco displayed his first signs of impatience in a cold voice.

"You come from a very traditional family and a conservative society. There have been no FitzMalfoys that I am aware of, also I am not sure that a Draco Abraxas Malfoy Junior, would be a good choice for the baby's name, if it is a girl." (that should be a good wand in the eye.) "Have you and Hermione consulted with a numerologist for the baby's name?"

(Merlin, where are you when I need you. Or, Hermione she should be here, I should not have let she sneak out the back. That is what you get for being a softie with a witch.) "

"Ah... What curse?"

(Yes, he has no clue) "Draco, some families have curses connected to them."

"When father talked about 'our curse' I just thought he was talking about Crazy Aunt Bellatrix."

"DRACO!"

"No. really that is what Father said she was, 'a curse' he had to bear."

(Lucius, we are going to talk, you are lucky that you are dead or I would kill you myself I wonder how you would like your mouth painted shut)

"Draco I will be going to the library to research the ramifications of what you are planning," (some of the portraits in the west wing should be a good start.) "later we may meet at dinner and continue this conversation."

"Yes, Mother." (going against Lord Voldemort was easier. Now, how do I tell Hermione what my mother is up to.)

(He is a lot like his father, for others, a complete mystery but easy to read for me. He was so disappointed to find out his father had pick the losing side all those years ago. It is hard when you worship a man, to find out he had feet of clay. Will Hermione know that is his one insecurity, he was never able to live up to his fathers expectations. How he wanted his father to be proud of him. Well there is enough blame to go around for all of us.) sighing, with a shake of her head, Narcissa's hand caressed the handle of the cool teapot,with her long slender fingers, "Missy, the tea has gone cold. This time, Oolong, I need to think. Use the 'Dogwood' bone china teapot set."

There was a soft puff as Missy apparated into the breakfast room with a silver tray laden with the delicate bone chine tea pot, a faint hint of the smoky flavored tea started to filter into the room.

Narcissa smiled unguardedly for the first time this morning. "Missy, you and I need to talk about Master Draco."

Missy's eyes grew round and her ears perked upwards. "Yes, Madam." as her only reply as she set the tea service by her master's mother.

Narcissa let her back touch the chairs backrest for the first time this morning. She had kept a straight back during the conversation with Draco, a well bred witch sat up straight when in the present of others. Her mother had raised her not to slouch at the table. It was the first rule that Narcissa had learned, when she was allowed to set at the children's table, backs were to be kept 2 inches from the chair back . Manner and Deportment classes were started young in the Noble House of Black. The rules were ingrained when they were taught that young. Perhaps it is a sad note on the wizard's world that house elves were not considered 'someone', by well bred witches.

Setting at the table, sipping her tea and looking out the window with unseeing eyes Narcissa took a deep breath and said "Missy, I wish to talk to several of the Grand Pere's this afternoon. Air the Yellow salon in the west wing. I will need the Holland cloth removed from the furniture, dust the two heroic landscapes paintings, and see that the carpets are cleaned" (I do not want to offend the family by overcrowding them into small daubs). "Also connect the fireplace in the music room to the floo network for just today."

"Yes. Madam." Missy was use to Mistress Narcissa giving commands, to open or close rooms in the manor. Seldom had she been told to prepare for a gathering of the 'Masters'. She kept her eyes on her master's mother, trying to determine what was so important that such a gathering was necessary. When that nastiness with the bald one occurred all the floo's had been shut down to prevent unwanted wizards and witches from coming to the manor unannounced. (that did not stop some strange ones from coming through the front gate. The bald one was gone, but master had only wanted the floos opened to select few and then only for a short period. Missy knew she could apparate where she was needed in the manor, she would keep her eyes open.

"Tilly, I need some parchment and ink." Narcissa drew her quill out from her diary, (Serveus, Minerva, and Aurora Sinistra would do for a start, later I will contact Epherius Doggle.) Her quill flew across the parchment. When she had finished the letters she again called for her house elf "Tilly, I need you to send these by owl to Hogwarts, tell the owl that Severus' should be delivered first.

In a fluid motion Narcissa stood up and started walking toward the French double door leading out to the hall way. She did not stop to look back to see if the table was being cleared, there was no need, Missy was a loyal house elf. The heels of her Italian leather shoes clicked on the marble floor as she left the room.

Walking in to her bedroom, she headed to her dressing room. (A witch must always appear well groomed when leaving the house, yes, Grandmother Black, I remember, my responsibility to up hold the family position in society. How I rebelled at school is another story.) opening the doors to the connecting dressing room Narcissa reached for the Sapphire blue silk robe that had silver threads dancing around the neckline and hem in Celtic knots. She selected eel skin shoes with high heels. (Lucius, you always did like how these shoes made my butt wiggled when I walked in this pair, your mother was horrified when she over heard you say that.) She placed the dress and the shoes on the fainting couch in the corner and went to the French Rocco Dresser to remove matching blue garments. (Yes, mother, my under clothes will not show through the robe, you will not be ashamed of me. But if you knew how Lucius loved to see me only in silk stockings, a garter belt and heels you would have thrown a full-body bind spell on him years ago.) She placed the undergarments on the couch with the dress.

Narcissa started to remove her morning robe and place it on a hanger. She used a scourgify spell to clean the robe before hanging it back in the closet. She did the same with her undergarment and place them in to the dresser. It was a habit that all witches and wizards with house elves had, so one did not accidently present house elves with clothes and set them free. Narcissa was aware that Draco had offered clothes to house elves and paid them wages, but kept the habit, because when one went to visit friends it would have been rude to see their elves free by accident. She use the scurgify spell on her shoes and place them on a shelf in her dressing room closet. ("Remember buy good quality, and take care of it. Galleons you find in a cauldron, at the end of a rainbow will disappear." Yes Grandfather, I will.)

Narcissa strolled into her shower to refresh her self for the day's work ahead of her. (I may not have my family portraits here but they still do not leave me alone. I wonder if Andromeda had it right when she eloped with that muggle born wizard Tonks, flipping the portraits the forked fingers salute, as she sailed out the front door in a bid for freedom. Phineas was in a snit for a month over that one. I will have to invite her to join me for Ice Cream at Florean Fortescue's shop. It will give us something to laugh about. hummm.... I think..... yes..... I will order the elf berry and chocolate chip this time, OH , with plenty of hot elf berry sauce on top)

Narcissa upon leaving the shower took a towel from the hot rack and gently patted herself dry. Dropping the towel on the floor she walked over to her vanity and selected an ambergris and aloe lotion to rub on her body. The lotion felt cool to her skin. (Yes, mother a good moisturize will prevent drying and aging of your skin, but honestly I love the smell, that is one thing the French do so well, sorry Severus your mother, Eileen's anti-wrinkle potion just smells so..... ) A dusting of a shimmery powder.... beauty is work.A quick glamour charm applied to her face, followed by a flick of the wand and a Marcellus charm to make her hair hang in soft waves. (May be I should tell Hermione about that wonderful wizard that invented this charm, My mother, was thrilled when he first showed it to her, It makes curly hair manageable and it will stand up to the humidity factor. Hells Bells it even controlled my hair when it wanted to stand on end....... no, I will not think about that 'unpleasant time'.)

Narcissa slipped on the sapphire blue garter belt. She rolled the sheer silk stocking slowly up her long legs and attached it to the garter belt. A smile crossed her lips as she then attached the second stocking. The silk caressed the skin as she stood up to put on the matching knickers. She had worn a similar set for the first Governor's Ball, the night she had been presented to Lucius' parents as their future Daughter-In-law (That, she hag, of his mother, I swear she knew I put the garter belt on over the knickers.....that struggle in the girls stall to try and pull the knickers down so I could to go.... then they got tangled in the straps, I almost did not make it back to our table...at least that Hufflepuff did not have to come to my aid. That would have been too embarrassing.... )She strapped on her heels stood up and looked at herself in the mirror

"Someone will be happy to see you to day" was the mirrors response.

Narcissa used her wand to pull the robe closure shut. (Lucius you use to enjoy doing this for me) with out a backward glance Narcissa left her dressing room.

There was a soft puff as a house elf apparated into the dressing room to clean the shower, put out a fresh towel, pick up the damp towel, and clean up the shimmer powder from the floor. The room was ready for the next time the mistress wanted to use it. The house elf apparated out of the room again with a puff of displaced air.

Assurance that comes from experience, cloaked Narcissa as she walked down the long hall way to the music room. There was no ash in the fire place to smudge her clothes or face, She threw in the floo powder and said "Hogwarts Professor Snape's Office". There was no question of her welcome, in the office of her son's godfather. She knew if he was not present, a Hogwarts House Elf would offer her refreshments, and would tell Severus of her arrival.

Severus was in his office, the only indication that this visit was not by his arrangement was an arched eye brow, in his low whiskey flavored drawl he ask "Two teaspoons of sugar in your tea?"

Narcissa's silky laughter matched the smile in her eyes. "Severus, ever the consummate Slytherin," breathing the aroma of Jasmine flavored tea,"You know my weakness for sweetened tea."

"I am more concerned with your owl post. You were vague as to the need for this meeting." was his response.

"Nothing that could shake your confidence, which reminds me, this conversation as always in the strictest of confidences. It appears that my son is planning on making me a grandmother."was her response as she lifted the creamy colored teacup towards her face to inhale the heady the tea.

There appeared a tightening around his lips as his voice deepened, "I am sorry that I was not able to attend the wedding. Who was the lucky bride?"

"Nonsense, you know there has not been a wedding," then smiling she added,"I need some inside information."(There is very little that you don't know, but this could be a shock to your cauldrons my dear old friend.)

"Yes"

"I Need some information on the future mother of my grandchild." was the cautious reply,"Severus, he said they agreed not to get married."

"They agreed not to marry," dark brown eyes gazed straight ahead.

(No wonder the dark lord never knew what you were thinking,) Narcissa took a steading breath,"I need to know how I am to deal with Hermione Granger," her eyes looked with a intensity as if she were trying to solve the mystery of the sphinx.

"Miss. Granger, I see." was the cryptic response. The long fingers of his hand steepled together palms touching. "You have concerns." in almost a whisper.

"I wish to know about the 'personality' of Miss. Granger." was Narcissa's reply before taking a sip of her tea. (You know what I want.)

"She was a diligent student, perhaps a touch 'bossy', many of the professors wondered why she was not sorted into Ravenclaw." Severus replied with a slight tilt of his head and a raised eyebrow. He went on, "It was known that she was the brains behind Potter. Madam Pince the Librarian would know more about her out of the class rooms as she spent a great deal of time ensconced there." Then perhaps one of the few times any one seen him smile he added, "She arranged for Professor Lockhart to sign a permission slip allowing her to enter the restricted section." He then drank from his tea cup and set it gently on the table.

"Where you sorry that she was not sorted into Slytherin?" was spoken softly.

"She was too open with her feelings, and with a strong sense of right and wrong; she would have suffered in our house." was the simple answer."She was one of the best students, besides Draco, that I had had in a long time. But she followed the instructions too closely One needs to see why a potion works in order to improve them." Serveus look Narcissa in the eyes, intently.

"Yes. I see" Severus drawled, "She did take some interesting ingredients from my potion supply closet once, perhaps the word I want is ingenious. She even defended me several times, much to the dismay of her friends."

Narcissa smiled, "You needed Defending?" (A hooded cobra does not need protection.)

"It surprised me as well. At the time Potter and the youngest Weasley boy did not react well." There was a pause and then he continued. "There were times, I wondered, those two needed a swift jelly leg jinx, both were hot heads, her feelings were hurt, and yet she always forgave them."

"She forgave them?" (Now what ingredients did she take? The restricted section?)

"Yes. Would you like some more tea?" Severus said raising the teapot.

"No, but I look forward to continuing this conversation at the Governors Ball, I have informed Draco that I will be setting at the Head table with you." was said with a slight nod of her head.(Draco, you were born under a lucky star).

"I look forward to you company. Do you need to use the fireplace or are there other's that you need to visit?" was the only response.

"I have an appointment with Minerva Mcgonagall, Thank You, if I may, I will need to use it later if that is possible." Narcissa responded in gentle tones. (There is much to ponder.)

Severus nodded his head in affirmation, "If I am not here a house elf will grant you access."

Gathering her robes to stand up, Narcissa smiled "Severus, you have been a good friend to the family, I do not think Lucius or Draco really knew how good." (What that mad man could have done to you.)

Narcissa turned and walked to the heavy Oak door that guarded the Potion Masters private study. The door slowly swung outward allowing her to leave the room. and as silent it swung closed behind her. She nodded, (You keep your wards strong...blocking your mind as well.... will your war ever be over.) and started to walk up the stairs that would lead her to McGonagall's office.

Narcissa walked up the stone stairs that would take her out of the dungeon. The memories of her first year at Hogwarts came flooding back, how it felt like to be a giddy school girl. So happy to be free of the strict strictures of her parents. (I was so naive) The portraits on the wall were the same as those on that September day so long ago, there was a feeling of timelessness in these halls. (How easy to belive that I still wear my hair in braids, with flat leather shoes on my feet, I can hear the clicking of my shoes echo down the hall.) the walls still felt cool to the touch, a torch guttered in the wall sconce as if by an unfelt breeze. As the twisting staircase climbed higher, the air started to get warmer until it open up on a landing that gave access to the Main Hall.

It was brighter and more open, there were students walking in their black wizard robes with only their house colored sweaters to identifying which house they belong. Narcissa look to see the Slytherin table was still located along the long wall. (There was where I first saw Lucius) Narcissa walked toward the table in deep contemplation. She look up toward the Head table and the dais were the sorting took place. (I was enchanted with this room, there was where the stool sat, how I held my breath when the hat was placed on my head, it said Slytherin. I knew my parents would be proud.) Narcissa walked down the center of the hall, (there he was, a tall blond boy with the wide shoulders, and he winked at me it seemed like yesterday.)gathering looks from the students, they recognized her from her pictures in 'Witch Weekly' and the 'Daily Prophet'. Her elegance was a barrier against them.

Narcissa continued to walk toward the Slytherin table. She stopped at a seat near the portrait of a small unicorn and a young maiden. The maiden smiled and said "I am glad to see you have come back to visit. I also had the pleasure of watching your son, as he set at this table for 7 years," Narcissa looked at the table in wonder. (No, I will not ask if my parents sat in these seats too) Shaking her head as if to clear it, Narcissa turned to exit the hall.

There was one Hufflepuff that did not turn away from Narcissa, with a calm and regal manner, the student approached Narcissa and said "My name is Eva, I am the head girl, is there any way I may help you?"

"Yes, I am on my way to meet with Professor Sinistra, could you direct me to her study?" Narcissa replied in modulated tones. (A Huffle for head girl?")

While Eva and Narcissa was talking they were approached by a young man with a badge that proclaimed him as Slytherin Quidditch Captain. Eva turned and smiled at him. "Ty, I will be back shortly after I have helped our guest to Professor Sinistra's Study. Will you please help out at the prefect meeting until I get back? The prefects could use an authoritative 7th year, if both Heads are absent. Kao Ming is overseeing detentions so he will be running late too. The meeting is in the Sun Room in the North Tower.'

Tynen Mcblae nodded his head politely at Narcissa and responded" I will be glad to escort both of you to Professor Sinistra's. I am sure the prefect will not mind waiting for us."

Narcissa paused and thought back to how her and Lucius were while he was courting her. (That young man has it bad for the head girl, I wonder if he was planning on a side trip to the closet behind the wall hanging of the Singing Warlock?)

.Eva's laughter gurgled forth. She smiled at the handsome young man shaking her head. "No, I sure they wouldn't mind if we left them on their own Ty, and a couple can be counted on to create enough havoc when left to their own devices. No names mentioned," Eva sighed." I know I can safely walk the hallways of Gryffindor tower. I will meet you there, and we can talk later."

"You must pardon Ty, he is protective of me." was Eva's explanation as Ty walked way from the two witches.

Narcissa gave a slight nod of her head, "As was my husband was of me when we attended classes here. A wizard tends to believe he is all powerful and must protect his witch, no matter how powerful we are. I do not believe that we would have it any other way, but it is not always easy.(as I am sure you know.)"

Narcissa turned to leave the hall and the old memories behind her. She glided across the stone floor that had been worn smooth by centuries of students feet. Slowly moving toward the hall way that would lead her to the Gryffindor tower and Aurora Sinistra, the Gryffindor head of house, study. The hallway lead upward with stairways that seem to shift at radom. There the portraits on the walls that were not as familiar to Narcissa as those in the Slytherin Dungeon. The eyes followed her in an eerie silence, as if wondering why she would dare to try and gain entry to this tower with the company of a Hufflepuff. (I wonder if Hermione felt this way when she came to the Manor.)

Eva informed Narcissa, "You need to watch out for the third step, it is charmed to catch any one who is ignorant enough to step on it. We have to come to the rescue of at least 1 or 2 first years a day for the first couple months of start of term; which really is not as bad as the marsh on the third floor that Fred and George Weasley's left us."

"A marsh?" Narcissa ask (Weasley, I had a cousin, a Prewett that married a Weasley)

"That was when Umbridge was acting Head Mistress." was the noncommittal reply

(Yes, Draco did talk about her. I wonder what house she was in, I do not remember her, maybe home schooled?)

The only sounds were the clicking of their shoes on the stone steps. It was at the 6th landing that Eva turned off the stairs and lead Narcissa down a hallway lined with knight armor. At the Third door Eva stopped and knocked.

The door was opened by a dark hair witch in a plum colored robe. "Narcissa, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company today? Oh! Eva, do you need something?"

Eva smiled, "I am just an escort to prevent the attack of the stairs. I need to return to the prefect meeting, Ty is in charge at the moment."

Professor Sinistra nodding her head chuckled, "You should go to his rescue then." She motioned Narcissa in to her study, "Has Serveus plied you with enough tea or could I offer you some Elfen made wine."

"I could use a small glass of wine." was Narcissa's response (A Slytherin needs saving by a Hufflepuff?)

Aurora walked over to a decanter set on a sideboard and poured an amber color fluid into a couple of cut crystal glasses. Setting the decanter down she replaced the stopper. Picking up the long stemmed glasses she motioned Narcissa toward a couple of chairs setting near the fireplace as she handed her a glass. Both women adjusted their robes after they had settled in their chairs. The light from the oculus window, located high in the stone wall, added to the atmosphere of the cozy room.

Aurora looked calmly into Narcissa's eyes and ask again "What, can I do for you? This is an unexpected pleasure. I did not expect to see you until the Governor's Ball. Severus had informed me you were to set with him." (What is a Slytherin looking for in Gryffindor Tower?)

"I have a question that I feel that you can answer." was the evasive response. "I need some information on a previous student."

"Narcissa, you know that I can not break a confidence in regards to students." (Why me? Severus would be a more logical source.)

Narcissa nodded and relied. "Yes that is true. But I am not asking you to break a confidence." (Delicate, do not over play your hand.) "I would like some information on the possibility of contracting (contract, yes that is true.) a previous student for a position with the Malfoy family, and I would like to ask your opinion on this matter." (position, yes the mother of my grandchildren, I am not lying.)

Aurora arched her eyebrows."Contracting, wouldn't it be better to contact someone connected with the ministry?"

"No, I do not like giving too much information to the Ministry, their secret policy leaks worse than a sieve, I wish to protect the family business. (Yes, business, an heir is family business.) I was wondering about finding a student who is good at runes to do some research work in the Malfoy library." (Now will she take the bait")

Aurora paused to think (what do you really want? Hmm, Yes.) "I have had several students that were good at Ancient Runes, if you could give me some more information on what they would be researching?"

(OK, )"I need a researcher that I can trust to keep the information found private. The library belongs to Draco and the information found would belong to him." in calm tones Narcissa went on to add, "It would need be someone he could trust."

"Wouldn't Draco know whom he wanted to do the research work?" (What is with Slytherins nothing is as it seems.) was Aurora's reply.

Narcissa responded, "Yes, but he is so busy with his quidditch team that he has delegated this to me." (Gryffindors)

"Well if you wish someone to do research in your library and is competent at Ancients Runes I suppose I would recommend someone from Ravenclaw." (Now lets see which way she jumps.) was the reply.

"The best student was in Ravenclaw?" was all Narcissa said.

(So that is the way this is going.) There was a pause, and then the answer. "No. The best Student that I had was Hermione Granger."

"Ms. Granger was your best student in Ancient Runes...... How is she at Library research?" (like pulling teeth from a thestral) Narcissa took a sip of her wine.

"Irma Pince would be the best source of information on her abilities to conduct research. I know that all her parchments were well written.." (What do you want to know about Hermione?) "It is no secret that she obtained the most O's on her Owl's and N.E.W.T.'s that were possible."

"She has no weakness, how wonderful." was Narcissa's cryptic response.

"Well it was known that she did not do well at flying a broom, Madam Hooch was the only teacher that did not give her an O, she evaded a T, but barely ." a tight lip replied, that was pried from the professors lips.

"That makes her more witch-like, when one is too perfect, it is hard to be around a paragon. Draco got his flying ability from his father, not me." and then Narcissa went on to ask "Would she be discrete about the information she found in the Malfoy Library?"

"Hermione, was known not to be a gossip, if that is what you are asking?" Taking a sip of wine from her glass, Aurora then placed it on the side table.

"Do not take offense, I must be careful when it comes to the Malfoy library. The ministry has often made unwarranted searches on the Manor and some items from the Malfoy ancestors have been remove. I need to protect what belongs to my son and his future children." was the terse response.

(Yes, but what or who are you really protecting?) "I understand, is there any other information I can help you with?"

"No, you have been very helpful. I need to go talk to Headmistress McGonagall about the Governors Ball. I thank you for you time." (Well that did not give me much to work with.)

Professor called out as Narcissa was walking out the door, "Watch out for the Third Step, it catches a lot of the unwary." (Not that I ever thought of you as unwary.)

Narcissa turned her head and said "Thank You for the advice." Her foot steps echoing down the hallway, she walking in deep thought, and was startled to hear the voices of two students arguing in strident tones.

"I told you I did not need you to escort me though the hallways. I am the head girl! What is your problem?" it was Eva and she seemed to be upset.

The young man's responded, "That was Lucius Malfoy's wife!"

"And?" was the very short reply

The young man huffed "She is Slytherin, you do not know what Slytherins are like."

"You mean like You!" was the retort from the young witch.

"Eva, you know better than that."

"Ty, I am sure she is a lovely witch, she raised Draco afterall." Eva continued "Honestly she was very polite, and really did not say much to me, I really do not see a problem. You were supposed to be at the prefect meeting, please tell me you did not leave Slughorn's little favorite in charge."

"Evie, you know better than that, I left Cassidy Nott in charge."

"You say that like I am suppose to be impressed." was said through compressed lips.

"Well she is the only one sly enough to realize if she doesn't keep them in line she will be stuck doing all the work... decorating for the Spring Gathering Party, she is Slytherin. Besides, I saw Kao on his way up to the Sun Room while I was leaving. And we know what an efficient Ravenclaw he is, he'll have things wrapped up by now. In fact, going back would be a wasted effort for you, I'm sure they've all dispersed by now."

"What are we going to be doing?" was said in softer tones, by the Hufflepuff.

"There is a Tapestry of a Singing Warlock I want you to see." the tone was hopeful.

Narcissa smiled and kept quite, as the couple walked down the staircase. (So who will find the third stair?)

There was a yelp. "Bollocks! Evie, give me a hand."

Narcissa leaned against the wall and covered her mouth with her hand. (Wizards, even from Slytherin, are not always so observant when they want to snog)

Waiting for a few moments for the young lovers to turn down another flight of stairs Narcissa started on her downward course. She was as careful as Eva was to avoid the third step, there would be no handsome wizard coming to her rescue.

She considered stopping at the library to interviews Madam Pince but decided that would not supply more information on what sort of witch that Hermione was. If she was smart enough to get around Severus and take supplies from his potion cupboard, Narcissa did not feel the librarian would be able to supply information on what she was in the restricted section for.

Stopping on the second floor landing she walked down the hallway to a pair of Gargoyles guarding a stair way. Minerva McGonagall was on her way towards the Gargoyles too, which sprang apart at something she murmured incoherently.

"I hope I did not keep you waiting Headmistress." Narcissa told the daunting witch.

"No, the portraits told me you were on your way. Please join me in my office." Walking up the stairs in a dignified manner. That Narcissa followed up the winding stairs.

(She is a witch that should not be underestimated) both women thought.

Walking in to the Headmistress' office Narcissa was struck by the number of portraits that grace the walls. It would be overwhelming to a witch of lesser poise being surrounded by so many notable wizards and witches. She gave Minerva more respect, she knew the difficulties of dealing with so many personalities, (Where there complaints as to which painting was hung next to which painting, the possibilities of feuds among strong personalities was endless. I am glad only have to deal with the Malfoy's . At least they were mostly silent, not prone to expose the family secrets.)

Minerva pointed Narcissa to a chair by her desk."May I offer you a biscuit" said Minerva in her Scottish burr.

"No, thank you, I have been exposed to Hogwarts generous hospitality." declined Narcissa politely (A Gryffindor, in bottle green robes, maybe a Slytherin at heart.)

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" was the Headmistress question.

"Two fold actually (a straight forward approach is warranted.) I need to talk to you about the Governor's Ball and then about Hermione Granger."(less than straight forward.)" As you are aware I will be setting with Severus at the Heads Table. I will be presenting the Malfoy check for scholarships to the school as a means of underwriting the cost of educating wizards and witches, that has been a project close to the Malfoy family heart." (OK less than straight forward.) "It is Draco's and my wish to fund the education of promising wizards and witches in different house as a means of promoting inter house unity."

"An admirable cause. If I might say so, and one long over due." was the taciturn witches reply. (What will be the cost to Hogwarts?)

"Our family would like to start a fund that would reward scholarships to deserving students from houses other than just Slytherin and Ravenclaw. I have heard from several professors that Miss. Granger was an outstanding student, I believe she was in Gryffindor while you were head of house."

"I am not sure how MS Granger comes into that discussion, but yes, that is true. Professor Flickwick was sure she had been miss-sorted in to my house."(So why are you checking on Hermione?)" she had shown several times over the years many examples of bravery. Mr. Potter and she are good friends" Minerva spoke in clipped tones.

"Yes, I am aware of her aid to Mr. Potter. But I am more concerned about her scholiastic abilities, I understand that Miss. Granger spent a great deal of time in the library while she was here at Hogwarts." Narcissa pushed on,"I feel that it would be an incentive to other students if her activities were honored. Maybe we could highlight research that she conducted while she was a student."

"Yes, I find that interesting, very interesting. Is there a specific area of her research you wish to honor?" ask Minerva

"Perhaps her professors have suggestion on what they feel would be appropriate? Or is there an area that you would like to suggest?" (Are you sure you are not a black walnut? You are a tough one to try and crack.) Narcissa look at the fire in the fireplace. "I was surprise to learn that she had taken Ancient Runes and Arithmacy, I was under the impression that Gryffindors took Divination with Professor Trelawny."

"No, Hermione did not take divination, she preferred strong academic courses. (Saved her from hearing about how Harry was going to die every week.) Professor Sinistra was impressed with her diligence in a challenging class."

"Really" was the only response.(She did not take the easy O.)

"I might have been an influence, as I did not feel that she would be well served by that class, so I recommended a couple of alternatives that she might consider and she chose Arithmacy and Ancient Runes. She did very well with the challenges they presented to her."

Narcissa looked at Minerva in a new light. "That would have made for an over full class load. which other class did she drop?"

"None." was the simple reply from the Headmistress as she looked Narcissa in the eyes. as if daring her to respond.

"I see." was the terse response from Narcissa. (There is more here than I believe Draco is aware of.) "Hermione is a more gifted witch than most?" was said in a questioning tone

Headmistress McGonagall sat stiffly in her chair, surrounded by the Portraits of past Headmaster and Headmistress's, She ponder the question and considered several possible answers. What was the purpose of this visit. There was no question in the Headmistress' mind there was more to this conversation than what was actually being said. After years of teaching students from the four houses she had few illusions as to what Slytherins were capable of, and it was well known that they never came to real point of the question in a direct manner

"I have rarely met with a witch, with the talent that Miss. Granger showed for Scholarship." was the diplomatic response. (Is there really a need for someone to work in the Malfoy Library?) "What are the special requirements that you need in a researcher? (Have I done Hermione a disservice.)

"We need a person that will be able to catalog the Malfoy Library; as many of our ancestors wrote diary's of their investigation of various aspects of magic. The works need to be sorted by categories of magic that were studied and cross referenced for potential use for the future use by our family, It would be advantageous if a thesis could be written to condense this information for present and future generations. As I told Professor Sinistra we need a researcher that is able to translate Ancient Runes. Some members of our family wrote their work in runes; this was thought as a way of protecting their work. Professor Sinistra informed me that Hermione Granger was the best student that she had ever had in Ancient Runes. I might add that Severus informed me that Hermione was excellent at potions. (That should work to explain why I talked to Severus.) She would be able to evaluate the potions that might be contained in some of the diaries. I do realize that this would be a daunting job; it would require a special person.

"Indeed it sounds like it would be a challenging position. If Miss. Granger does not feel the need to accept this position, was Professor Sinistra able to make a second recommendation? I am sure that there are other's capable of filling the position." (Why did you talk to Sinistra and not Flickwick?)

"No, she did not, as I ask for the best student who had studied Arithamacy and Ancient Runes." was Narcissa's measured reply. (There is no need to let her know I was checking on Hermione)

"Indeed, I am under the impression that Miss. Granger is employed with the Ministry of Magic, and is not currently looking for employment." the Headmistress look at the witch in front of her with questioning eyes. (Will you ask for another students name?)

"If that proves to be the case, I will return and ask for more recommendations. But Draco would only want the best to work in his families library. It would also have to be someone that he would believe to be trust worthy" (Put that in the floo and see where the smoke goes.) Narcissa responded in what she considered reasonable tones.

"We would welcome the chance to recommend one of our students for employment with your family." was said in the same tone (Yes, when the Ministry starts using pigs to deliver the posts.)

"I do have one more question." Narcissa said "As one of the Governors on the Board of Hogwarts I am not sure how Miss Granger would have been able to carry an excessive class I know when my husband was a member of the board this was never mentioned." (What is being hidden?)

"It is a seldom use method of study." was the simple answer. "It is covered in our charter, and as a member of the Board of Governors, you have been supplied a copy." was said with a smile (All 893 pages,3 appendix's and in fine print.)

(You evil witch, even Lucius did not read that book, the eye strain would have blinded him.) "I will be looking forward to familiarizing myself with it, Thank You for your help. I wish you Good Day."

"May I offer you the use of my Floo?" (I thought Umbridge with her throat clearing was the worse thing that could have happened to Hogwarts. Albus, you and I are going to talk about dealing with the board, and do not pretend to be asleep.)

"No Thank You, I need to talk to Professor Snape concerning our arrangements for the Governors Ball. I can use his fireplace." Narcissa rose to her feet and smiled at the Headmistress, nodding her head she walked to the door. She could hear as the door was shutting

"Albus!"

A genuine smile crossed Narcissa's lips, as she started to walk down the stairs. (It still feels good to rile a Gryffindor.)

Narcissa, walked down the winding staircase to the lower floor. The Gargoyles slide apart to allow her to pass onto the landing. (I wonder how many people have stood here and shouted words and curses to force their way into that office?) She continued down a long hallway that lead to the Great Hall. (I wonder if Severus is here or is he in his study, I am sure he would have read that charter over the years. I will not ruin my eyes by doing all that reading.)

She did not see Severus at the Head table but she did see the Head Girl and her Slytherin boy friend enter the room. (Yes, he is smiling the visit to the Singing Warlock must have went well.) She started to walk toward the couple when they greeted her.

"Madam Malfoy, it is a pleasure to meet you again." Ty said,"I hope your visits with Professor Sinistra, went well."

(A true Slytherin, looking for information.) "Yes, it was very informative. I hope you were able to assist the Head Girl with her prefect meeting, while she escorted me to the professor study." then with a smile Narcissa went on, "Did the two prefects cause any havoc?"

"No, I was able to inform Cassidy Nott that Eva, would be late so she took over the meeting." Ty replied. (You were in the hallway.)

"I did wonder how a prefect could cause havoc, as usually they were selected for their ability to deal with students problems not cause them." (So why did the Head Girl worry about them?)

Eva smiled said with a sigh "The two are fifth year Gryffindor prefects. The son of the owners of _Zonko's Shop of Mismanagement_, Fabian is the resident school prankster. Add his best friend Mafalda Prewett to the mix, who is related to the owners of the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, it is a wonder that the school is able to operate at all. Somehow the two have gotten away with fooling most professors into thinking they are angels." Then with a shake of her head toward Ty, she continued, "It is not that they are always trying to do something, it's just that things happen around them."

Ty (Slytherins do not snort, but they were up to their armpits when that toilet exploded in our changing room at the Ravenclaw/Slytherin game.) added, "The heritage is unavoidable, but the Fanged Frisbees in potions class were."

Narcissa smiled (That explains why a Slytherin needed to be saved. But Severus, you did not tell me about any Prewetts in Gryffindor.) Nodding toward Eva Narcissa smiled, "I enjoyed meeting you today. I believe as Head Girl you will attend the Governors Ball, I look forward to meeting you there." (Both of you.)

"Thank You." Eva replied graciously. (How kind of her, at least I will know someone there besides the professors.)

Ty wished her formally, "Have a Good Evening." (I wonder if Draco knows she was here stirring the cauldrons. Was it a secret that Malfada is related to the Weasleys? I will check with Draco.)

Leaving the Great Hall Narcissa walk down the stairs that led back to the Slytherin Dungeon with more information to ponder than she had expected to gather. This time she did not reflect back to when she was first at Hogwarts, her thoughts were on how much information she should share with Severus, and what need to be savored in solitude.

Being Slytherin meant knowing information, was worth Galleons in Gringotts, and how to spend this information required careful thought. Her considerations were varied as the information she had received. (I started the rumor about wanting to hire Hermione Granger to work in our library, which will give Draco a bit of cover from some of his more questionable friends...... But how could she be in two classes at the same time?.....If he is determined that she will be the mother of his children there is little I can do...... his personality was set when Lucius determined he wanted his name number to be a 5....Dionysus, for looks, Mars the God of War, Thor the God of Thunder, added to fire, curiosity, Freedom. There is hope, Hermione is a 6 which means her and I can get along together. She has the need for creation, balance, harmony, add in domesticity, family love. With her gods of Athena the huntress, and Hermes the messenger of the gods, The numbers add together well.....What did Aurora mean by watch out for the third step? She would know that I am a 3....Is there something that can cause me to stumble? I will have to cast the runes when I get back to the manor........Do not let me fall into the danger of scrying the crystal bowl every time I get up, Aunt Gardenia got so she would not get out of bed with out look in her scrying bowl....May-be it is a good thing that Draco is looking outside the pureblood line. The blood is running a little thin......At least he avoided that Parkinson chit.)

Narcissa soon arrived at the DADA Master's Study and knocked on the Oak door. It opened outward, (Yes, you would want a door that would be hard to open inward.) Narcissa walk in to the study and looked at the apparent vacant room. (Are you teaching a class or avoiding my questions?) There was a small puff of air and a house-elf appeared before her.

"Professor Snape said you is to be made comfortable, he will be returning from teaching a class in a moment." said the small house-elf. "May I give you something to drink or eat?"

"No, I do not require anything." was Narcissa's response.(Well he is not avoiding me.)

The house-elf pulled out a cushioned chair and offered it to Narcissa. Narcissa sat down in the chair and looked at the empty fire place. The house-elf apparated out of the room as softly as it had entered.

(A witch is always composed, do not set there and wiggle your feet....Yes, Grandmother.....Do not sigh it gives the impression you are bored....... Yes,Grandmother..... I promise on Morgan Le Faye's cold and stoney chest I will be a better grandmother, My grand child will want to come and visit me....We will brew potions that will make our cheeks pink and lips red....Open those old trunks in the attic and laugh at how we look in those old robes.....There will be tea parties with unicorns and dolls.....If it is a boy we will go to the quidditch shop and buy him a broom for his first birthday.....Hunting for bowtruckles in the forest. I will be the favorite Grandmother...... I think I want to be called Nana, Grandmother is too formal. May-be Andromeda can tell me how she was able to be so close to her Grandson.)

"What are you plotting?" came the whiskey voice that Narcissa knew well.

"Severus, why would you think I am plotting any thing?" was said with a smile in her voice. "I could be admiring your cauldron."

"Really, that was the last one that Longbottom melted the bottom out. I remember him as one of my worse students, I fail to see what is so amazing that would hold you interest." drawled the wizard, with a faint grin.

Narcissa returned the grin,"It was the only thing I could see that was out of place on your desk. Why do you keep it in such a place of Honor?"

"Just to remind my self why I prefer to teach Defense against the Dark Arts." Severus said as he sat down and stretched his legs out before him.

"Now, I do have one question, as a member of the Board of Governors, how was Hermione Granger able to carry both Arithamacy and Ancient Runes when she dropped Divination?"

"So, that has finally come to your attention, as a member of the Board of Governors." Severus said in a drawl."I was wondering when it would come to the attention of a concerned members of the board."

"Severus, you did not warn me about this before I went to Headmistress McGonagall's office." (Do not be pertinacious, it has been a long day already)"The Headmistress has told me that it is covered in the Hogwarts Governors hand book, you know how big that monstrosity is and could they have found a way to make the writing any smaller. It is not a secrete." was the flustered reply.

"The Headmistress gave you that much information. I am surprised she is usually more taciturn you must have put her in a quandary. Try the second appendix, paragraph 4, subsection 3. More than that I can not say as I am prevented from divulging a students information with out their consent." Severus look at Narcissa and continued," Would you like a glass of brandy?"

"Brandy?" ( Severus, what do you think you are doing?)

"I found that this muggle alcohol is a comfort in time of stress."

"What makes you think I need a glass of 'Muggle Alcohol' at this time?" was bitten out.

"Narcissa the vein in your temple is throbbing, your heart rate is elevated and you just snorted."

"I do not snort" (Some days......)

"Very well, you do not snort, just huff-ed though you nose loudly. Look at this as a learning experience; you are trying a calming potion, for adults. This is not the brandy that you tried in France, this is a Spanish Brandy created by the Solera Procedure, it is smoother than the harsh cognac of Armagnac region. It is aged in oakwood barrels that once had sherry stored in them, then with a couple of re-distillations a 'Solera Gran Reserva' is produced." Standing up Severus walked over to a sideboard where balloon glasses were setting with two decanters. He cast a warning spell on the first bottle and poured the warm water into the goblets. He swirled the water in the glasses and then drained the water out into a crystal bowl. Turning the glasses upside down on a piece of linen he allowed them to dry for a moment. Turning the glasses back up right he poured the amber colored liquid from the second decanter into the glasses. As he turned to walk back to Narcissa, he let the stem of the glasses rest between his fingers. Gently he moved his hands in small circles to cause the brandy to swirl in the glass. The heat from his hands help the glasses warm the brandy. "Allow your hands to keep the brandy warm, swirl the glass to help release the aroma, smell gently and then sip the ambrosia. Allow the brandy to rest on tongue so that you may taste the subtle flavors that the wine, sherry, oak, and time have developed."

(Adult calming potion?) "I will reserve judgment." (Merlin, save me from Slytherin Wizards.) Narcissa reached for the glass and cradled it in the palm of her hands, following the instructions to swirl, and breath the aroma that was captured it the small throat of the glass. She stook a small sip of the liquid and help it on her tongue for a moment and then swallowed. It had a not unpleasant "Fruity flavor" There was none of the harshness she had tasted when Lucius tried to get her to taste brandy on their honeymoon. (This would be nice on those cold winter nights in the manor.) "Where did you say this was produced?"

"I found it on a trip to the Costa Brava, on a 'vacation' after the battle with the Dark Lord. The mineral springs at Girona were relaxing. The restaurant next to the hotel I stayed at,serves this brandy, I made arrangement with the owners to supply me with a case of the reserva brandy every year."

"Severus, You went to Spain, for a vacation?" Narcissa's voiced her disbelief.(thermal springs?)

"Yes, I found that brandy after a day in the warm springs was most relaxing."

(Why are you trying to change the subject from Hermione to a trip to Spain, no matter how improbable that you went willingly.) "I find the idea of you out of you normal attire hard to believe, did some one place an imperious curse on you?"

Severus looked nonplus, "It was the first time in 2 decades that I was free to do as I wished, with no master trying to control me."

"Severus, I did not think, please forgive me for my impertinency, I forgot the imbroglio that Dumbledore and The Dark Lord involved you in."

Severus acknowledged her response with nod of his head, and then took a sip of his brandy. "There is no need to feel disconcerted on my account. When I left the side of the Dark Lord I knew that I would be placed in a mendicant position approaching Dumbledore. I have spent, what I regard as a life of atonement for my former actions. I am now free to explore what life has to offer."

"Severus, are you happy in your position here at Hogwarts?"

"I think contentment is a better word. I am teaching Defense against the Dark Arts, which I want, not because the Dark Lord wants me to subvert minds of students. I still make potions for St Mungos and the hospital wing here at Hogwarts. I am writing a new text book for potions based on my improvements. Yes, I have found a new reason for life."

"Contentment with life, reason for living, are those new definition for being happy?" Narcissa sipped her brandy, looking into the wine as if scrying the future.

"Does a reason for life make a life worth living? Yes, I fought a battle to keep Lily alive and I lost. Then I fought for her son, and we won. Now I must have a new reason to live, if only to prevent the return of another Dark Lord. I can teach students how to defend their minds and bodies in the Defense against the Dark Arts, remove the prejudices that wizard kind had toward muggle born. Elevate, educate, elucidate. In vino veritas , there is truth in wine, the ancients Romans were right."

"Elevate, educate,elucidate?"(I did not know of your pain, I am sorry.) "How does this work to remove prejudices?"

"Elevate.....remove the negative perceptions of wizards of muggles and show that we are dependent upon the muggle world for the very food we eat. Educate, elucidate.... increase the awareness of the improvements that the muggleborn and Half-bloods have brought to our world and show that if there was no influx of new blood we would soon become a world of squibs. The magic would die. There will always be a risk of Dark Wizards and we must show 'constant vigilance' if we are to survive." Severus drank the last of his brandy and placed the glass on a side table.

"Would you consider helping me write my presentation for when the Malfoy grant is made at the ball? I have informed the Headmistress that the family will present a scholarship grant for research. I had left the subject of the research open, but I think you have given me an idea that we will require a paper on Muggle-born contributions to the Wizarding World. Maybe we will name it the Hermione Granger Award." Narcissa looked pleased with herself. (That should help keep the board off balance, fan the rumor mill.) Narcissa handed her glass to Severus.

Severus look at Narcissa's eyes and smiled, "You are putting a kneazle among the hinkly puffs."

"I have never seen you smile so much in my life as I have seen today, my good friend."

"I am finding I have more reasons to be amused." then with a pause he went on,"I seem to find enjoyment in minor intrigues."

"Minor intrigues? Keep me informed on developments here at Hogwarts, there are a couple of people I have found of interest." (The Head Girl and Ty our Slytherin.)

Dark eyes looked at her with deep concentration. "Yes, that has been of interest for another as well."

"Another?"

"Draco."

"OH."

Narcissa stood in silence for a moment, and then laughter rang through out the room. "I must say adieu for now, but we must talk soon. It has been an elevating, educating and elucidating day."

The tall dark wizard that escorted the pale blonde witch to his fireplace was no longer the lonely wizard that had hid his true self for so many years.

The witch tossed in the floo powder, said "Malfoy Manor" stepped into the fireplace and was gone.

Narcissa appeared in the music room fire place. "Tilly, Noddy.... I need you to inform the Grand Pere's that there is a need for a 'family gathering in the Yellow Salon, if there are complaints just tell them I said they can talk to 'Johann Rudolf Glauber' Aunt Imogen's son....They may gather in the landscapes of George Henry Jenkins and the William Snell Morrish....Place the book of poems by Victor Hugo _Art d'être grand-père_ on the side board where it will be visible to the paintings. (The Art of Being a Grandfather should be a subtle hint to a few.)

"Yes, Madam" Tilly and Noddy responded at the same time.

(Yes, Johann, who thought he made a Philosopher's stone, based on the works of Nicholas Flamel, too bad he only lived 64 years. Dragon Pox is deadly. I wonder if it was true that Maude Malfoy exposed him to it when he fought against the marriage act of 1638? Some wizards need to be pulled into the bonds of matrimony.)

"I shall return to the yellow salon within the hour, there will be no need to interrupt the gathering once it is started. If any one except Master Draco or Miss Granger tries to make an entrance to the manor, they are to be deny admission. You may close down the floo network in this room." Narcissa walk out of the music room and went down the hallway to her suite of rooms.

Walking into her room she walked over to a small bookcase, and remove a small leather bound book. She opened the book and started to read at random. It was her journal from her honeymoon in France. There was a tear that made her blue eyes sparkle. She went to set in a chair that set by the window. It looked out over her garden of blue roses. She used her wand to accio her runes, that were stored in a cut velvet bag. Taking the wooden disks that Lucius had purchased for her, from a witch on the north bank of the river Seine, she thought hard to determine her question, then at last she tossed them to the table. She watched as they spun .round on the polished surface and then settled in repose.

For a long moment she just stared at the disks, Gimel was first, that was the number 3 for change, then Yodh the number 10 for destiny, Lamedh the number 30 self-sacrifice, and last was Teth number 9 for healing. There was no indication in her face how these numbers scared her. She set looking out the window, determination grew within her. If Severus could face more than a decade of fighting for the child of the woman he loved, she would endure for her son.

Narcissa gathered the disk and replaced them in the bag. She stood up and walk back to the table by her bed. She placed the bag in a small wooden box on top of her night stand. She sat on the bed and grabbed a pillow from the bed and hugged it to her chest. When Lucius had died she had charmed it to hold his scent. When she woke in the middle of the night she could hug it and take comfort in his presence. She held it to her and cried, for what would she mourn, she did not know.

Narcissa finally arose and cast a glamour charm on her face to hid the ravages of tears. Walking out of her room she walked down the hallway to the stairs that led down to the Yellow salon. There was a determination in her walk that had not been present before. Walking in to the seldom used room she drew a breath, "Now, I am here to inform the family that we will be seeing more of Miss Hermione Granger. Open your mouth and it is the Malfoy Cottage by the North Sea. I am aware that Draco, the head of the Malfoy family, has talked with you about her. She is to be treated with respect. If there is any references to mudblood or blood traitor, you will be severely dealt with. No Johann, you will not interrupt. I wish to remind you that Draco only painted a mouth shut when you threatened to be insulting to Miss Granger. I will use an incendio curse and that will be the end of your problems. You all are bound in your duty towards Malfoy heirs. There will be no talking to, indicating, miming, hinting or in anyway disclosing the relationship between Draco and Miss Granger to other portraits in other places. However, keep your eyes and ears open in any other domiciles. Especially the pureblood ones. Report to me immediately, any rumors of the relationship outside these walls, or plans to target the two. Have I made myself clear on the familial duty? If you have objections, speak now and be done with it, for I plan to bind you all magically. Disloyalty in any way will automatically cause a most painful destruction of all the perpetrator's portraits, everywhere. Acid, fire and Hellhound fangs will be involved."

There was a pair of mutinous eyes that stared at Narcissa, as if she was a creature they had never seen before. Narcissa look calmly and said "Abraxas if you wish to join your son Lucius in the Dower house I will be glad to make the arrangements. As for Johann I think you should go to the Malfoy Cottage for a short visit." Narcissa stood still and waited for an explosion of conversation. There was laughter from one blonde wizard in emerald green robes. Narcissa asked, "Armand is there something you wish to add?"

"Non, Ce n'est pas le moment de pleurer;" was said in a Gaelic accents,"Elle c'est une belle femme."

Narcissa smiled "Yes she is a beautiful woman, I did not cry because of that. The family is facing dangers and You need to keep your eyes open to watch for potential problems. Draco is likely to face some dangerous people. Ce fut une pagaïe monstre .(yes all hell will be breaking loose) We must do our duties. I bid you adieu as I must go to the dower house and talk to Lucius."

The family waited until she had started to leave the room when she hear the rumbling among the wizards. A faint smile crossed her lips as she hear Armand berate the other wizards for daring to speak to such a bella femme in less than respectful tones. As the door started to shut she heard "Jusqu'à ce que la mort nous sépare." Her wedding vow "until death do we part." There would only be the need to move two painting. Armand would keep the others in line, he did love his 'belle femme.

"Tilly, when the Grand Pere's return to their portraits you may replace the Holland cloth on the furniture in the yellow salon. Missy, if Master Draco returns tell him I will be at the Dower House for the rest of the day."

"Yes, Madam" The house elves' ears were perked up to catch all the conversation the Grand Pere's were having, it appear to be very vocal in the yellow room.

"Noddy, there will also be a need to move Johann to the Malfoy Cottage, and Abraxas to the Dower House. Move Johann today and Abraxas tomorrow. If questioned by Master Draco inform him it was on my orders. Once Johann is at the cottage you may un-paint his mouth. On second thoughts, leave it shut for a year."

Narcissa turned to walk down the stairs so that she could go into the garden and pick roses to take with her to the Dower house. It was relaxing in the garden after the short scene with the paintings, it was good to know that she had the support of Armand. He had been the one painting to welcome her to the manor after her marriage.

Narcissa picked up a wicker basket that was charmed to keep the roses fresh until she could place them in water. She gathered a dozen roses and fern fronds to make the floral arrangement that she would take with her to go visit Lucius. Walking down the crushed sea shell path that lead to the Dower house Narcissa was lost in thought on how to tell Lucius his son had selected Hermione Granger as the mother of his heir. Would he be more upset that she was muggle born or the fact that Draco and she would not be married. (A Silenco spell might help save my hearing)

The door to the smaller Dower House open in welcome to her. Walking in she used the aguamenti spell to place water in the vase for the roses. Careful of the thorns Narcissa arranged the fern fronds and the roses. She carried the vase into the main salon where Lucius' portrait was hung over the great fire place. She placed the vase on the mantel and smiled up at her husband.

"Lucius, I have some news for you, and I am not sure of how you will take it."

"Oui, bella femme."

"Perhaps you would not want to use the word Bella."

The blonde wizard arched an eyebrow and look down at the witch standing below him, "How could I not, you are the most beautiful witch I have ever seen."

"No. Draco has chosen his mate."

"You mean wife, there is no need to be jealous of another witch in his life."

"No, I mean mate, she does not wish to marry him, they have decided to have a child together but not marry."

"What fool of a witch would not want to marry Draco. He is of the finest pureblood line."

"That was not a consideration.....in fact it may have been a hindrance."

"How can a pureblood wizard be a hindrance? Who is this witch?"

"Hermione Granger"

"That...That..."

"Soon to be the mother of your grandson, so keep your words sweet, they are easier to eat."

"Grandson?"

"Or Granddaughter."

"Don't they know?"

"They are still trying."

"Then there is time, you contact...."

"NO! This is their choice and I will not interfere"

"Cissy what has happened?"

"Lucius, he is an adult, there is nothing You or I can do. I want to see my grandchild and I will not do any thing to stop them."

"You know there are others who will not be so accepting of such a child."

"I have put the portraits on guard, the house-elfs have added more wards to the house, and I have informed Draco that there might be a family curse on such a child trying to force his hand into pushing for a marriage.....Speaking of family curses what is this about calling Bellatrix your curse?"

"pardonner à qn d'avoir fait." was said in a contrite voice. "Oublier et pardonner"

(forgive and forget for what you have done, ) "Oui"

"I went to Hogwarts today, I met with Headmistress McGonagall and promised to present the Malfoy gift at the ball." she sighed "I also told her the family would be presenting a 'scholarship grant for students doing research work."

"For this you are sighing?" was a coaxing response from the painting.

"Yes, I told Severus that I might call it the Hermione Granger Scholarship."

"I am sure you have an excellent reason for this move, but it is eluding me at this time."

"I started the rumor that I wanted to hire a researcher to work in the Malfoy library, and as Miss Granger was the best student at Ancient Runes and Arithamacy I would want to hire her. Thus she could be at the manor and no one would think any more than she is in the Library, as she was always in the Hogwarts Library. I thought if she was at the manor she would be protected by the house and the paintings. There are some dangerous people that have not forgotten Draco's part in the battle with the Dark Lord. Romantic association with the muggleborn from the Golden Trio may be pushing it. Sinistra gave me the warning about the 3rd step. "

"But why the Hermione Granger Scholarship?" was the portraits short reply

"Severus is working on trying to eliminate some of the prejudices against muggles and muggle-born. I thought having him present the award would convince some members of Slytherin House to apply for the award, the student has to present a paper on how we depend on the muggle world..."

"What?"

"....for food and material that we can not produce by uses of our wands. This is part of Elevate, Educate and Elucidate program that Severus has started to eliminate prejudices against muggle-born and half-blood witches and wizards. Like Dumbledore, he feels if the prejudices can be reduced at a young age there will be less chance of another Dark Lord coming to power."

"What is the price we have to pay for this scholarship?" was the practical reply.

"It has not been set, I need to talk to Draco first, but he has a full cauldron that is being stirred by several people. I think they need to be taken care of first. Then we can worry if our son is married at the time of the birth of his child."

"Well there should be a law that wizards should be married to the mother of their child." was the angry retort from the painting.

"I will contact Epherius Doggle, he is in the Wizengamot, I think that the marriage law of 1638 could work." Narcissa started to pull the closure of her robe open, "Would you like a game of wizards chess?"

Lucius laughed.


	21. Battleship, Silver,Rose Quartz & Arsenic

**Disclaimers:** It's all JKR's... except Ty, Eva, Swamiji, Sephara, Misty, Serena, Zara, Alisha, Robert, Brian, Noddy and any other OCs. Also, while I'm at it, I disclaim any knowledge of vampires that I haven't absorbed from works like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Twilight (books), Moonlight (series on CBS), Underworld, Van Helsing etc. See a pattern?

**Credit to xCailinNollaigx, who makes me grin with every note she kindly and cheerfully sends my way. She wrote 'Bad Hermione! Bad, Bad Hermione' in one of her reviews and I just had to use it. Her writing reverberates with a life of it's own and her WIP _The Founder's Heirs_ is way more popular than this story, do check it out. You'll find her in my favourite authors, along with some fabulous authors I've discovered along the way.**

Warnings: 1 This chapter does not have too many dialogues. It 'spans' a month.

2 Use of 'her' and 'she' for the owl is intentional. I perceive 'pets' as beings, not things :)

3 Use of UK English henceforth is intentional. Hono**u**r instead of honor/ Gr**e**y instead of gray. I'll try to stick to Brit, but if I fall back on the US usage, please do point it out? Also, to the Brit readers out there, please suggest current slang phrases that you think would fit well... I'd be most appreciative of your time and effort. I have bookmarked some Brit Slang dictionaries and HOPE to have time to use them. Right now, I don't even have Internet at my new apt. Am updating from outside! This could mean a while before my next update again :( You've been warned! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

The amazing Dixie Charmer has betaed most of the chapter. Parts with mistakes were probably added AFTER she had betaed.

________________________________________________________________________

* * *

(Continued from The Many Shades of Grey)

**Battleship, Silver, Rose Quartz and Arsenic  
(Shades of Grey)**

**~ Battleship ~**

Hermione proceeded to have the most wonderful day, though the evening brought rather interesting correspondence. She received owls from Minerva McGonagall, Aurora Sinistra and Eva Granger. (The obliviated young girl had chosen her own new name all those years ago.)

Hermione was taken aback that Narcissa had been snooping. She told herself she shouldn't be surprised. She should have been expecting far worse... a pure-blooded zealot standing at her doorstep, hexing Hermione for corrupting Draco... or something vivid like that. She was just relieved that the Slytherin had remained somewhat discrete. Not discrete enough though, if Hogwarts' residents were now surmising their own theories about Narcissa's sudden appearance at Hogwarts, and evident interest in Hermione. _Why did she do this? This wagging of tongues is the last thing Draco would want. _Hermione shook her head and considered herself warned about Narcissa's nature. She sent Draco a small Burrow owl from the Ministry.

* * *

_How did it go with your mother this morning?_

* * *

After about an hour, she was visited by his Eurasian Eagle-owl. _So he wants a more secure line of communication._ Serapha was a regal and intelligent being with a wing span of over 5 feet; quite capable of protecting herself and her carriage against undesirable advances from acquaintance or foe. Hermione had discovered the majestic bird's weakness quite fortuitously. One evening, Serapha had interrupted a solitary movie-night and tried the offered popcorn with some disdain. The aloof owl had discovered joy and been surprisingly affectionate ever since. Hermione always kept some unsalted natural popcorn at hand at home and office.

Hermione unrolled the scroll and read the very dissatisfactory...

* * *

_Fine._

* * *

Hermione grabbed some parchment.

* * *

_Details please?_

* * *

Another hour passed by before Hermione received her response.

* * *

_Nothing worth mentioning. You should have been there, you would have enjoyed it._

* * *

Hermione shook her head once again in exasperation. Draco was being evasive. It couldn't have gone well. At times like this she desperately missed the convenience of a good old phone call. Then again, Draco would so have mastered the art of screening calls and using voicemail as a barrier against relentless females. Dodging a 'meaningful conversation'; men seemed to have an inbuilt gene dedicated solely to _that _survival skill.

She sighed, when she'd agreed to the baby-making, she hadn't signed up for playing witch's chess with Narcissa. Dealing with the idiosyncrasies of one Malfoy was enough. Researching Runes at the Malfoy library? Yes, the idea was tempting, but Hermione had enough on her plate with her work at the Ministry, overseeing Sanctuary and writing for her columns in the Daily Prophet and now the Quibbler too. While the thought of spending hours in the Malfoy study (researching_ tomes_ this time) appealed infinitely to her intellect and curiosity, these other issues at work were much closer to her heart.

As per her nature, Hermione worked out the pros and cons of the situation. The good was that Narcissa seemed to be accepting Hermione, albeit, in her own way. Narcissa seemed to be going out on a limb, offering Hermione valid grounds to frequent the Manor. As much as Hermione appreciated the thought, the conduct troubled her. Narcissa had been presumptuous if she assumed that Hermione would fall in line with her ruse and quit one of her jobs to truly start working for the Malfoys; all without even being consulted. Even if Hermione hadn't been wary about maintaining distance (professionally) from the man who was likely to break her heart in a year's time, she would have been very wary of being manoeuvred around by his mother. Hermione was giving Draco an heir, not signing over her career to the whims of the Malfoys.

She needed Draco to understand her boundaries. Correction, she would like for Narcissa to understand her boundaries. However, the ever-cautious Hermione could estimate the pitfalls of a direct line of communication with Narcissa. No, her communiqué would have to be limited to Draco. At the very least, he ought to be made aware of his mother's actions. Trying to word it as diplomatically as possible, she began another letter.

* * *

_I would like to know what happened with your mother this morning. She raised quite a few eyebrows at Hogwarts today. Evidently, she discussed me with McGonagall, Sinistra and Snape. Something about me researching Runes in your library and honouring my research while I was in school. My best research was when I skipped seventh year to traverse the planet to _off_ those horcruxes. She would know, you were there. _

_We all know that this is a front for _some_thing else... Perhaps digging info on me? Perhaps warning me off you? Perhaps neither? Who can tell with Malfoys? The loyal Gryffindors have promised not to gossip about Narcissa's sudden interest in me, though they have instructed me to stay on guard. Perhaps you want to pay Snape a visit? And then perhaps you want to grow some balls and ask Narcissa to stay out of our business? You would have been livid if my parents or friends got this 'involved'. _

_If per chance the idea of me researching Runes in your library was your excuse to explain my presence to your mother... I don't know what to say. Wait, I think I do. Fair attempt, but I already have three jobs, remember? And I do not plan to be seen around the Manor on a regular basis. Not by your mother anyway. _

_Also, the next time I ask a question, I expect a proper reply. _

* * *

All right then, not very diplomatic. PMS? Should she tear it up or keep it for future entertainment? Write a sweet little note? Bah! Draco had it coming. "Mother will be fine" indeed. Hermione wondered if she'd best keep an eye out for PIs shadowing her, reporting every move to Narcissa. It did occur to Hermione that she was… _possibly_… over-reacting. She had been so fiercely independent all her life that she was apprehensive about Narcissa's fierce protectiveness and possessiveness regarding Draco. Harbinger of not-so-pleasant experiences in the future? She'd seen how some of her old muggle girl friends were struggling with the Mamas of their _mama's boys._ Merlin, she wasn't even getting married, and she had started worrying about 'mother-in-law' issues! _You are getting ahead of herself..._ she assured herself... _over-analysing as always, Granger._ So she did tear the parchment up, but not before copying parts it. Draco had to be informed about his mother's little excursion, to assess any damage, control it... and hopefully control her. She reread the more benign version.

* * *

_I gather you are not eager to talk about breakfast, so I won't ask again. I thought I'd fill you in on an interesting development. McGonagall, Sinistra and Snape had the unexpected pleasure of Mrs Malfoy's company today. The former two, at least, seemed rather surprised in their letters. Evidently I was discussed. Something about me researching Runes in your library? Also, something quite imaginative about honouring my research while I was in school, to encourage students. My best research was conducted when I skipped seventh year to traverse the most bloodcurdling locales of the planet; alone with three blokes; after obliviating my parents. Not exactly role-model material if you want to keep the students _in_ school. So I would encourage your mother to desist this approach._

_Mrs Malfoy, you and I, we all know that this is about _something else_... Unfortunately, Minerva and Aurora have guessed as much, as well. I share a healthy relationship with the Gryffindor professors, and they have kindly volunteered to keep the contents of the conversation private, to avoid idle chatter. Snape is discrete enough, but perhaps you need to have some conversations as well?_

* * *

A little more diplomatic. Hopefully, Draco would not take offence. Yes, it would have to do. She sent the letter with a highly-carbed Serapha who had acquired unrestrained access to the popcorn box while Hermione was distracted.

A somewhat subdued Serapha returned a few hours later. Hermione hastily extricated the letter from her pointed talons.

* * *

_I'll take care of it._

_Mi, don't have a heart~attack thinking about this, right? I'll see you tomorrow evening._

* * *

Hermione read the lines over and over again, trying to ascertain his mood. It seemed like he'd added the latter part as an afterthought, to assuage her fears. He'd succeeded decidedly well. He'd called her 'Mi' again. _Sigh._ For an incomprehensible reason, that made up for everything. Feeling distinctly better, she turned towards the quiet bird, who was uncharacteristically scuttled in a corner. Usually, Sephara fluffed and flaunted her gorgeous self, and walked up to the cupboard where Hermione kept the popcorn, trying to open it with her beak and talons. Now, the bird despondently refused the popcorn in favour of some water and a traditional owl treat. When Hermione suggested the owl return home since there was no reply, Sephara ducked her head under a wing, pretending to be asleep. Hermione set out her shawl and bowl of water for the bird to rest on and then went up to bed, still in contented wonder about the transition from _Mud-blood_ to _Mi_.

**~ Silver ~**

As promised, Draco visited the following evening. They didn't go into details but he mentioned that there had been a discussion the night before and there would be no _Hermione Granger Scholarship at Hogwarts_, none sponsored by the Malfoys at least.

"I don't want to draw any more attention to us than necessary. The other thing makes sense, in a way. You conducting research at the Manor's library is good cover. I despise being manipulated by mother this way, but she has a point. All right, all right, don't get your knickers in a twist. And do not obsess over it anymore." Draco said he'd taken care of it and Hermione trusted him. Then Draco started talking about random things and Hermione took her cue from.

They talked about their day, he put his feet up on her ottoman, requested her to massage his scalp and neck because he had a slight headache. When it got better after a while, he kissed her "magic fingers", they had Italian food with the lovely Merlot that he brought, Hermione introduced Draco to full-length movies with _Notting Hill, _he loved it, they had a wonderful evening... and a fortnight that was better still.

Draco often dropped by or owled her to floo over to his room in the Manor at specific times. They fell into a relaxed pattern, their relationship predictably fiery and unpredictably effortless… and fun. Who knew that between holier-than-thou Granger and dark-as-the-night Malfoy, so many laughs could be had? One evening Draco fell off the couch holding his sides, while watching _Mickey Blue Eyes. _He even got over his proper self to laugh at _Zoolander_. It had already been established that _Coupling_ and _Friends_ reruns could force him to projectile liquids. Good, she deserved the revenge. Hermione loved that she was bringing some light-hearted moments into his life. She hadn't introduced him to the _Action_ genre yet, she figured she'd spare herself that headache for a bit. Once Harry found out that Draco had started watching movies, there would be war sagas and Bond-flicks being owled to her duplex all day long. Till then, she enjoyed her peace.

Draco surprised her in a multitude of ways, thoughtful and material. The following weekend he took her to château in a small town in France. They spent the gorgeously sunny weekend walking around the town's streets, beach and indoor public market. It was winter, so there were no tourists, only the local population living their daily lives. The local muggle population remained blissfully ignorant regarding the couple's real identities; they gossiped amply about the honeymooning 'Smith' couple.

In the market, Hermione struck up a conversation with a shy but talented teenage girl who was working on an oil-on-canvas that depicted the lively marché in black and white. Even though the painting wasn't completely done yet, it was particularly captivating; it drew in the audience, almost bringing to life the sights and sounds of the French country-life; reminding one to slow down, smell the herbs, indulge in a patisserie, go for a long walk and un café with a friend. That weekend, they did all that and more, spending what Hermione considered 'quality' time… bonding, being. For the first time in her career, Hermione understood the hitherto unknown dread of the 'Sunday Evening Blues'.

The week that followed had some more salient moments. When Hermione got back to her apartment Wednesday evening, the Grey-scape from the village marché was hanging on her bedroom wall. On her gorgeous, pearl-grey, newly painted, velvety smooth wall. The wall that had been an uninspiring beige this morning. There were curtains draping her till-now bare windows; rich, midnight-blue raw-silk, with silver details, layered over a sheer taupe Grey to let the light in. Her bed was swathed in linen a colour of charcoal that was somehow... wistful? Accents of silver lined her walls. Accessories in blues ranging from midnight to sapphire dotted her room... incarnated in pillows, candles and a set of empty photo-frames on her bedside tables. There was a scroll on her bed that she ran to pick up.

* * *

_A little Zen for you._

* * *

Hermione smiled a sigh. She had been meaning to give some kind of theme to her room for the longest time, but never got around to it. Earlier, this had been just an empty space littered with paraphernalia from her hectic life. Draco, with a flick of his very elegant wrist had created a serene haven for her. He seemed to be filling up many of the empty spaces in her life.

Hermione realised that she could get used to his generous side. After all, everyone has to make _some _compromises. Relationships are just _so_ hard.

**~ Rose Quartz ~**

The Saturday after that, Hermione took Draco to a gypsy fair in Romania, where they spent a carefree afternoon enjoying another sunny day. They walked around the fair contently, sampling traditional foods and admiring the colourful wares- some rare, some commonplace, displayed in the treasure-filled stalls. Hermione bought a vibrant red silk scarf that she insisted on paying for. She laughed when they passed the fortuneteller's tent; the old gypsy took one look at the scarf in Hermione's hand and winked at Draco. So she could foresee the plans Hermione had for the scarf? Hermione blushed and refused to answer the query in Draco's raised brow, and challenged him to a game of aiming rings instead. She lost spectacularly but at least he was sidetracked _and_ he won an adorable white unicorn toy for her. It was the only material gift she left with that weekend. She came home with memories of much laughter, and felt much richer for those. In Draco's company our Gryffindor bookworm found a kinship that she hadn't experienced with anyone before. Sure, Harry and Ron were her best friends, but with Draco she felt something different. Like she could never get enough. Like she could call him home. If he let her.

_BAD Hermione! Bad, BAD Hermione! Don't you DARE go there!_

As rose-tinted as her glasses were these days, Hermione was under no illusions. She clearly comprehended the demands of their psyches and bodies. They were experiencing the honey-mood phase, a surge of pheromones, evolution's dictate to procreate and Bob's your uncle. Still, it was a well-received high; she had no complaints with evolution's conniving right now. Evolution could dictate her hormones all it wanted, all day, every day! Not the most propitious of sentiments to behold, in view of his travel plans for the following weeks.

The very next morning, Draco was to embark on his Quidditch tour to Australia and New Zealand. The vampire situation was still unresolved, though the conflict had been limited to that one town near Sydney. Thankfully, the vampire population in the rest of the world recognized the danger created when such attacks threatened their clandestine existence. If the muggle world was to find proof of vampirism, mass genocide of vampires and innocents alike, would be rampant. Suspected individuals would be hunted like witches in earlier centuries, without trials or explanations.

Hermione had her own assortment of concerns. Draco was supposed to play a few games in the wizard town of Ozislike, near Sydney. This would be a high profile event. If the truant vampires wanted to make a statement, it could be a visible platform for them. Thankfully the games usually ended well before daylight waned. Still, Hermione didn't like Draco going there. She couldn't ask him not to go, so she asked him to be careful, as they got ready for bed that night.

"I'll be fine Mi, though I will admit, this concern is quite flattering. Who knew that you cared a hippogriff's bullock about me? Then again, how could you not? I mean, _look _at this striking face," Draco fluttered his long lashes flirtatiously, "this dashing body," he lifted up his t-shirt and patted his washboard abs proudly, "this feline grace"... he put a confident hand in her mid-back and in a smooth dance-like sway had her bent backwards while he planted a most surprising kiss on her now tingling lips. "And how can any witch, strike that, any _woman_ resist this arresting personality?" He removed the supporting hand behind her back so she stumbled backwards, landing with a _thump_ on her bed.

Once the stars cleared away, Hermione chuckled at his silliness, in awe that Draco Malfoy had let go of his austere self-restraint long enough to be silly! With her!! Hoorah!!! She got up to gently punch his shoulder; "I'm using you for sex and a baby, Malfoy, of course I care about the equipment. Don't let it get to your uninvolved head. By the way, how does it feel to be the _used_, rather than the _user_?"

"Delightful. If this is how spiffing _being used_ feels, I wonder why I have such a notorious reputation with the parents of the female population. My actions should be considered a most munificent act of public service." He tilted his head to a side and put on a perplexed expression. Hermione couldn't help but snort. She was in front of the mirror tying her hair up in a ponytail when he came to stand behind her.

"Why you insist on formalities like dressing and tying your hair up before bed, I'll never understand. You know it's all coming off in moments, right?"

Hermione smiled at him in the mirror, "Don't you need to conserve your strength for Quidditch?"

In a swoop of blurred motion, Draco had picked her up, thrown her over his shoulder and carried her over to the bed where he very unceremoniously proceeded to throw her. "I don't know when I'll get to shag your extremely delectable self again Granger. Of course I don't need to conserve strength. If anything, I need to bank as many shags as I can, a memory reserve to draw upon on cold, floozy-less nights, now that I am promised to you and you alone, for a year."

There were parts of the statement that made Hermione grin. There were details that her brain sorted away for later perusal. At this moment she wanted to grin. Hermione spent the evening becoming wholly ingratiated to Draco for his most munificent acts of public service. And paid him using her new red scarf in the most inventive ways. Draco Malfoy liked bondage? Hah! She could blackmail him with this for… like, _ever_!

~)(~

Hermione soon discovered that she didn't like Draco being away on a tour. Yes, they could arrange international floo, but they couldn't without risk of exposing their _alliance_. That Draco Malfoy was flooing regularly to Hermione Granger's apartment at odd hours and almost every day, could catch someone's attention at the Flu Network office. So they used that avenue only once a week. Trans-Continental apparition was a skill that the four teenagers had managed during their year in hiding from Voldemort; but doing it on a regular basis was never advisable. It left one quite dizzy and spent. So they could only do that once a week too. That made it a grand total of meeting twice a week. At this rate, she'd only be able to meet him about a 100 times in the whole year. No, she didn't have to like this.

Hermione couldn't floo to his hotel because his teammates had the most annoying habit of partying till late at night, a convention Draco had led them into. So his regular absence from said partying would be duly noted. As it is, he'd mentioned they were all laughing themselves silly over how he hadn't taken any witch up to his room in ages.

Theoretically, Draco could floo every night to his Manor and then Hermione could join him there, but the time difference was a major inconvenience. Sydney was 11 hours ahead of London. During his day, her night, he was busy with matches or practice. During his night, her day, she was working and he was busy with publicity, networking and socialising (partying). It was a mandatory aspect of his life-style, one he averred to detest with passion. When he wasn't busy with the aforementioned, he was resting after a physically gruelling day. The times they managed to meet were downright remarkable. Hermione even started a journal, she didn't want to forget any of these memories. She captured them in prose and sometimes even in poems.

January flew by. The first weekend of February found her at Sanctuary. Most of the older children were at school so Hermione could concentrate on playing with the few young children. Serena sincerely informed Hermione that she looked different and happy, and then proceeded to regale her with the events of the past month while skipping on a rope. Hermione stayed after dinner to tuck the girls into bed, who then implored her to read for them. Hermione accioed a much-used copy of 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard'. Little Zara insisted that Hermione lie next to her and Hermione gave in. She lay there on top of the Tinker Bell-themed quilt, thinking how she may have a daughter of her own in a year's time. As Hermione gently rescued Zara's thumb from her mouth, she wondered if she was capable of loving her own child anymore than she loved some of the children here. It didn't seem possible. She still wanted to go through the whole pregnancy experience though, she WANTED to bear Draco's child. The thought filled her with indescribable emotions, a tenderness she couldn't define and a passion she couldn't categorise.

At work, as always, Hermione was completely absorbed and professional. Not a peep to the world about her enamoured status. It helped that these days her work was quite engaging. The Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shaklebolt, had asked her to liaise with similar departments in other European countries. The ambition was to help some narrower-minded societies witness how well the new, more equitable laws of British wizarding world were succeeding. For this, she worked closely with Percy Weasley in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. It required thorough gathering of statistical data, putting together accurate reports that depicted the state of relations between the various magical creatures, and writing convincing arguments to support the desirable changes. Work that both detail-oriented, cerebral individuals enjoyed.

Sometimes it frustrated Hermione how obstinate people could be, how set in their ways and sure of their righteousness. How blind!? Sometimes, she was rewarded for her labours by the opening of closed doors and the thank-you owls she received from the socially deprived who benefited from her efforts. She also got Howlers and threats from those who thought her to be an interfering know-it-all. She had long since learnt to check her mail for hexes and bubotuber pus. Draco assured her that it just meant she was doing her job right.

One cold Monday morning, Hermione flooed into the Ministry to find it bathed in pink. Pink hearts, pink taffeta, pink crepe paper, pink-dyed owls delivering pink envelopes, scrolls and packages. Flowers everywhere. _Oh, Valentines'! I wonder if I'll see Draco. _The thought leaped in unbidden. She tethered it out of sight, not securely enough.

Hermione's assistant, Alisha, an efficient, energetic and entertaining girl in her early twenties with beautiful ebony skin and long curly tresses, greeted her as she entered her office. Thankfully, there was no pink to be seen. Alisha knew her well. "Good morning boss! There's a pile of mail on your desk. You have an appointment with Robert Cresswell at 10 a.m. regarding some changes to the Goblin inheritance act. Can I come in and take the minutes for that meeting? He looks so dashing in his muggle suit! You would so under-utilize your time with him, it would shame St. Valentine."

Hermione grinned at the young girl's unmalicious exuberance. Robert was the Head of the Goblin Liaison Office. Incidentally, he was also the elder son of Dirk Cresswell, who had served as the Head of the Goblin Liaison Office till Voldemort had overthrown the ministry. After that, the Muggle-born Registration Commission had attempted to send Dirk Cresswell to Azkaban, but the talented wizard had escaped by stunning Dawlish. He had gone into hiding with some goblins, Dean Thomas and Ted Tonks- Nymphadora's father. Sadly, Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell and many of the Goblins were eventually discovered and murdered by Death Eaters. That had been a terrible loss to the Wizarding world.

Proving himself to be as brilliant and diplomatic as his father in working with the clever Goblins, Robert Cresswell had made quite a name for himself. Hermione, who had enjoyed the occasional work-lunch with Robert, looked disapprovingly at Alisha.

"Weren't you the one who told me last year that Bob was dating Susan Bones? And did you forget in that very special way you have, that he proposed to her at Christmas? You sent out over 20 inter-departmental memos that day, if I recall correctly."

Alisha kindly brought some coffee into the office, shaking her head, "I know, I know, but I'm telling you, if you'd used your time with him_ productively_, that 1 karat bling could have been yours. For such a smart woman, sometimes boss, you just don't see what's right in front of your pert nose. He was so into you, but you never gave him a chance. Never mind, no use crying over stolen Martinis. How's the guy that sent you these flowers? Any good?"

"What? Which guy?" Hermione glanced up from her pile of correspondence, in expectant elation.

"The guy who sent you those." Alisha nodded at the white roses set in a vase in the centre of her desk. Alisha often brought flowers for their office and Hermione had assumed that she had brought them in today as well. Hermione reached for the card on the flowers in anticipation

It was simple and sweet.

* * *

_Thinking of you,_

_Brian_

* * *

Brian?? It took Hermione a moment to mask her disappointment, and then another to place Brian. _Oh! Bridgit's cousin ... _whom she'd first met at the New Year's party at the Burrow. They had met a couple of times after that, at impromptu Weasley family dinners thrown together by the Twins, whose wives were great hostesses. Hermione had never heard them complain about the Quaffles that broke windows and china every week; or the hoards of family and friends that descended in regular shamelessness at the pitch between their adjoining houses. Brian got along well with his cousin and her still undomesticated husband, so he too dropped by frequently.

Brian was also considered a scholar amongst the academic circles in the ministry, for his expertise in Gaelic magic, mysteries and legends. She'd bumped into him several times over the past month. Couple of those times, they'd had lunch. Oh! So she _had_ spent considerable time with him after all. Had he taken it as a sign of interest? He'd never expressed interest in dating her before, so she was surprised, to say the least.

Hermione was a little flattered, but also a little disgruntled. This would be awkward. They had gotten along quite well, so if she shunned Brian's advances, Bridgit and Ginny would wonder why; if not directly confront her about it. She had an exclusivity clause with Draco to honour, so she couldn't go out with Brian either. _Sigh._ Well, at least he hadn't asked her out yet, so maybe if she just ignored the flowers, it would all go away. If Brian had been discrete about it, the Weasleys might remain none-the-wiser.

"So, who is he?" Alisha asked brazenly. Alisha had been working with Hermione for three years and they had developed an excellent working relationship. Alisha was a squib who refused to fade into anonymity. She did her job exceedingly well, was punctual, loyal and had excellent people skills. However, Alisha had what Hermione affectionately considered 'compromised personal boundaries'… no inhibitions whatsoever regarding sharing personal infomation, not that Hermione usually minded.

Despite her lack of magic, Alisha was Hermione's link to the Wizarding world; the inside source to the political stage-management that went on behind-the-scenes (gossip!). It had been Alisha who had first warned Hermione that Marietta Edgecombe was spying on her flooing activities and passing the information to a trashy tabloid. Marietta was the Chief Magineer for the Floo Network at the Ministry and her colleague's sister baby-sat Alisha's friends' neighbour's niece. Or something like that. Apparently Marietta still held a grudge against Hermione for the pimples that had spelt 'sneak' on her face, after she had betrayed the DA's secret to Umbridge. Really!?! That had been a **decade **ago!

A few days after this rumour was confirmed, Marietta's supervisor received an anonymous tip and subsequently found serious aberrations in Marietta's records. Marietta's magineering skills had been abruptly required at the plumbing department of Magical Plant's _Endangered Magical Mushroom_ wing in a suburb far, far away. Had anyone tried to analyse the handwriting on the anonymous letter, it would have seemed remarkably similar to Alisha's. No one had bothered and Marietta's mother had swept the topic under old forgotten rugs. Fortunately that had been two years ago. The war heroes' floo records had been made classified since, only accessible to the officials of the highest administrative level. Still, one never knew. Hermione shuddered to think what the tabloids would make of her flooing activities this past month!

Hermione looked at the card on the flowers and briefed Alisha on Brian. Her own lack of interest easily conveyed in her tone. This met Alisha's disapproval, "Girl, you need to go out and have some fun!"

Hermione smiled at that. She was having fun all right. She's had loads of fun with Draco this Saturday. He still bore bruises from the handcuffs she'd bought for him.

He'd got the melted chocolate. And cream.

Hermione shook her head and brought herself back to the present. Fortunately an interdepartmental notice had made a rough landing on Alisha's desk and the young girl's attention was diverted from the inquisition into Hermione's personal life.

Hermione glanced at the flowers and wished they'd been from someone else. She wondered if Draco would visit for a while, or send an exorbitant gift that she'd have to complain about… or an owl, with a message to floo over to the manor. She wondered if he planned to surprise her with a tryst to another hidden-away place where no one knew them. She'd quite forgotten about Valentine's Day, so she'd have to go get him some gift during lunch. She hoped he didn't show up before that, after all, it must already be 14th night in Australia. She went through all her mail and started preparing for her day.

At lunch she went to Diagon Alley to pick up a gift for Draco. She didn't want to get anything too 'romantic'. She wasn't expecting a gift from him, per say. They didn't have that kind of relationship. This was not a courtship, she kept reminding herself. _This is just baby-making protocol, he owes you nothing, especially not for Valentines. He owes you no romance. _Still, just in case he did get her something, she wanted to have something for him too. So she got him a pair of tasteful silver cufflinks from a collectibles store. Unimaginative, perhaps, but at least nothing that said 'clingy'. Hopefully, something that he could wear and think of her. She didn't doubt he had better, more expensive cufflinks, still, wasn't it the thought that mattered? Besides, these were returnable, just in case. After all, with the time difference, it was already about 1am, February 15th in Sydney by now. Perhaps he got busy with 'promo' parties? The Daily Prophet had reported yesterday that they had won a big match against the Thundelarra Thunderers.

Since Draco had become their seeker, and insisted on whipping their lenient training drill into shape, the Chudley Cannons had started to redeem their name little by little. Within a few months of joining the team, Draco had bought it, hired a new coach, revamped the management and most essentially for him, got rid of the "abhorring" orange in the logo and robes that "clashed" with his hair. He had seriously considered changing the team colours to grey and green, but the indignant team, a blustering Ron and the protesting fans convinced him otherwise. Now, instead of the bright orange, the robes sported the pale gold of his beloved mane.

In a few years, the team had regained much of its historic glory. They had even gathered enough gumption to reinstate their former club motto "We shall conquer"… a significant improvement over the "Let's all just keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best" that they had resignedly changed it to in 1972.

Owing to his great track record, Draco had been invited to play for the UK National Team more than a few times, but he had always graciously declined. Hermione had inquired why he didn't take his Quidditch career up the notch to the national level. He stated that he was in the leagues for the joy of the game, and for the times the urge to 'get serious' hit him, he had the Malfoy business.

That February 14th, Hermione found herself looking up expectantly anytime an owl or a person entered her office. Neither Draco nor Sephera made an appearance. Feeling just a little perturbed, Hermione headed home. She didn't pick up any food, just in case Draco showed up with dinner or plans. She entered her quiet duplex and checked all the rooms. No Draco, no note. She took a bath. Nothing. She ordered pizza with extra cheese and a chocolate fudge brownie with extra chocolate. At 12:01 am, February 15th, Hermione finally admitted to herself that he wasn't coming. Or owling. It would now be 11a.m., February 15th in Sydney. There was to be no acknowledgement of Valentine's Day for them. This is how she should have expected it to be. It stung a little.

It stung a lot. He couldn't bother enough to send her a note. Brian wasn't even shagging her and he'd still managed that. Hermione took the cufflinks out of the gift box she's wrapped them in and returned them to the original packaging. She would return them tomorrow. _Or give them to Brian… s_he thought rebelliously.

**~ Arsenic ~**

Hermione woke up feeling a little _off_. It took her a few moments to discern the feeling as malcontent. She went down to check if there was an owl from Draco, but by now knew not to expect it. Disparaging of her inanity, she picked up the newspaper. The picture accompanying the headline portrayed Harry with many other wizards and witches walking around busily. Serious discussions seemed to be underway. In the background, people (with their faces covered) were being taken into custody. Everyone looked tired. The headline screamed:

**_

* * *

_**

* * *

**__**

**_Vampires Slain!  
Officials of the Australian Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures (A.D.R.C.M.C.), Australian Magical Law Enforcement (A.M.L.E.) officers and Aurors from both countries join forces to take down the vampires of Tasmanhaven, Australia  
_**___

As much as Hermione wanted to read that story, another article, though much smaller, jumped off the page in big bold letters.

___

**_Draco Malfoy and D'Lo celebrate Valentine's Day together_**

___

A picture of Draco held her vision. He had his arm around a fair, dazzling, ash blonde. They were laughing and walking together on a quiet, pristine beach. The two seemed carefree and to anyone who saw this picture - in love. Draco would take his hand away from her waist to hold her hand. She would smile at him as if she could eat him up... and the loop repeated itself every few seconds.

___

**_Have the debonair billionaire and the sultry singer finally found their perfect some ones? Captured here in a titillating moment, they are seen strolling outside Lorraine D'Angelo villa in the elite Sydney neighbourhood of Steep Hills. Enjoying the pleasant morning breeze after a hot summer night? Contd. on Pg. 3_**


	22. Reposted: Confessions of Control Freaks

**Dixie_Charmer and I offer our sincere prayers for the wonderful people of Australia. About 400 wildfires there have claimed over 130 lives in southern Victoria. Around 450 homes have been destroyed. The news reports are heartbreaking. Sadly the toll is expected to rise, making this the worst natural tragedy to hit the great nation. We hope our Australian Fanfic friends are safe, along with their near and dear ones. **

**I stayed in Australia for two months during my college years, and I fell in love with the country and it's amazing people. The people have such zest for life and such casual wit that one can't help but be charmed. I have nothing but deep affection for the people of Australia. I wish them strength and peace in this difficult time. **

**Our sincerest condolences to those who have lost.**

* * *

AN: I'd posted this chapter a few days ago and got some very kind reviews that I am quite grateful for. I also got 2 kind constructive criticisms and 1 not-so-respectful flame. I am always grateful for concrit, it helps me learn; I honestly value the inputs, time and support. Their objections were to my use of Australian slang. I removed the chapter to ascertain the legitimacy of the slang before reposting it. The moderator of the Australian website that I referred to wrote back. (He is wonderful!) The emails are posted below the chapter, with his permission.

I sincerely meant no disrespect with my use of slang. I hope the following will better explain my choice of words:  
D'Lo is a non- conformist character, just one of those singers that use a lot of slang. Popular songs in the muggle world have had titles like "I want to sex you up" (Color me Badd), "I want your sex" (George Michael), "Vibeology" (Paula Abdul), "Asshole" (Dennis Leary) etc… I have not even begun to mention titles of rap/ gangsta songs. These song titles are not rooted in normal language customs. In typical conversations, Americans don't say 'Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got" (_Jenny from the Block _by Jennifer Lopez) The D'Lo / J Lo pun was intended. Lorcan D'eath's song "Necks to You" inspired me to think of some funky song titles. I do not intend to imply that Australians usually speak like this. I took artistic licence. Just like the British magical world, the Australian magical world has customs and culture not observed in their muggle counterparts. Oz is a reference to Australia, yes, but also to The Wizard of Oz – the novel by L. Frank Baum.

That being said, I have toned down the slang, out of courtesy.

Regarding the review that there is no elite neighbourhood of 'Steep Hills' in Sydney, Dixie_Charmer reminds us that muggles cannot find magical areas and these areas are also not depicted on any muggle map. ('Steep' was a play on words - reference to 'expensive'. I put in _way _more thought into this stuff than I should, don't I?)

**~)(~** **Dixie Charmer betas**. She also supports, helps me get over writing blocks/ plot obstacles and dispenses much appreciated wisdom. She graciously adds to my vocabulary, grammar and thought process with every email we exchange. I re-wrote this chapter extensively after the betaing, cos I wasn't happy with my character definitions… So, mistakes are all mine. Hey it's 5:28 a.m.! No sleep and no doubts that there are gonna be mistakes ;)

**Dixie told me she is casting a Repello Muggletum spell on the rest of this story. Muggles will henceforth not be able to read it or leave a review. I do love her.**

* * *

Previously on Heir Brained:

___

**_Vampires Slain!  
Officials of the Australian Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures (A.D.R.C.M.C.), Australian Magical Law Enforcement (A.M.L.E.) officers and Aurors from both countries join forces to take down the vampires of Tasmanhaven, Australia  
_**___

As much as Hermione wanted to read that story, another article, though much smaller, jumped off the page in big bold letters.

___

**_Draco Malfoy and D'Lo celebrate Valentine's Day together_**

___

A picture of Draco held her vision. He had his arm around a fair, dazzling, ash blonde. They were laughing and walking together on a quiet, pristine beach. The two seemed carefree and to anyone who saw this picture - in love. Draco would take his hand away from her waist to hold her hand. She would smile at him as if she could eat him up... and the loop repeated itself every few seconds.

___

**_Have the debonair billionaire and the sultry singer finally found their perfect some ones? Captured here in a titillating moment, they are seen strolling outside Lorraine D'Angelo villa in the elite Sydney neighbourhood of Steep Hills. Enjoying the pleasant morning breeze after a hot summer night? Contd. on Pg. 3  
_**___

* * *

**Control-Freak Confessional **

For the first time in her life, Hermione Jane Granger didn't know what to think. She felt enough to compensate for that rare lack. She had read the article twice now. She had to remind herself to breathe when she saw black every few minutes.

Draco seeing someone else shouldn't have upset her so. He'd done it all her life. What was new?

It's just that, she'd trusted him. When he had told her he'd be faithful to her and to their agreement; she'd trusted him. She'd trusted him since the time at Grimmauld Place. She'd had feelings for Draco almost half her life, and had known that with this little escapade, heartbreak was inescapable; but she'd expected him to leave her, not cheat on her.

Through the years, Draco and Hermione had been drawn together in an unhurried rapprochement of sorts, a vague kinship, if not friendship in its strictest sense. Draco had become a rock-solid figure in her world. She had always been able to count on his support in her efforts at Sanctuary. He had proved himself steadfast to the world at large, she'd never heard of Draco Malfoy breaking his word. She'd heard of him breaking chairs in pub brawls to arm his rowdy Quidditch mates (as he sat back to enjoy the show) but never his word.

It was true, he rarely made promises when he could shirk the commitment; but if he could be cajoled into the uncharacteristic event, he typically delivered. Maybe there was an explanation?

And if there wasn't, so what?

Deal broken. Big deal.

Hermione opened her eyes to look at the picture again, punishing herself for her own naiveté. Draco's hand caressed D'Lo's waist and then moved away to encompass her manicured hand with the blood-red nails. That rare laughter that Hermione had to work so hard to extract from him seemed to spill forth so easily on the golden sand where they walked barefoot. The azure sea lapped greedily at their feet, as if all was right with the world.

The reporter had spotted the couple at the beach just after dawn, then witnessed them returning to the two-story mansion, where they stayed for the remainder of the day. In the evening, they emerged on the deck facing the ocean, to a table set with a candle-lit dinner and red wine. Without being explicit, the feature had alluded to two nights and a day spent together in amorous pursuits.

There was probably another explanation, she promised herself. She should give him the benefit of the doubt. Hermione was too smart to believe everything she read in the papers. Political manoeuvrings left much scope for candour. However, the practical side of her did not want to hold on to the thin filaments of fraying hope. Why set her self up for another fall? Best be prepared for the worst.

So what if he had slept with another woman? It wasn't like Hermione had any rights over Draco.

So what if she had fallen in love with the egomaniac all over again?

_What if_, she gasped, _what if I never fell out of love at all? _

_It's just a **phase**. It'll pass. _

_It's a phase, it will **pass**._

She repeated the mantra to herself as she rocked to and fro on the chair, hugging her knees, face tucked in.

Time flew and time dragged.

Hermione read the article again, looking for clues she could have missed. She was seeking… anything really… that could reveal to her that this was, indeed, a farce.

The society commentary had obliged the ignorant reader with brief biographies of the two celebrities. Draco's war-hero history, his wealth, his Quidditch talent and his bachelor status were referred to. The Chudley Cannons win over the Thundelarra Thunderers was cited, along with the hopes for the upcoming match against the Woollongong Warriors.

Lorraine D'Angelo was extolled as the talented star who had started her career as a background singer for jingles on the popular Yabber Australian Wireless Network.

___

**_At Y.A.W.N., Lorraine worked her way up from advertisements for Vanish wart-remover and Shazam detergent. With hard work and sheer charm, she went on to become Wizarding Australia's most popular sheila. Her chart topping numbers include "Firebolt through me", "You had me Down Under", "I met you in Woop Woop" and "Stoked with you"._**

___

Hermione examined the celebrity singer's image obsessively. She was undoubtedly beautiful; in a pale, fragile-yet-dangerous sort of way, if that was your type. Regrettably, she conceded, the femme fatale seemed exactly the type Draco unerringly dated. The woman could possibly even have Veela ancestry.

_Oh, just perfect. A perfectly good-looking couple, with perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect bodies, perfectly glamorous lifestyles and they'll most certainly make perfectly beautiful babies together!_

_I've gotten over him before; I'll get over him again._

Hermione decided to re-read the main Vampire story. She'd already apparated once to the Potter household, and found it empty. It was still two hours too early for a visit to the Burrow or to get ready for work. Besides, she wanted to extract as many details from the article as she could. She did wonder why the British counterpart of the Australian Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had not been involved, if the British Aurors were deemed worthy of participation. As head of the department, which she had renamed _Department of Relations with Magical Creatures,_ she would have loved to help. Harry was obdurately tight-lipped about all matters auror, so it was up to her to glean as much as she could, so she could support him as best possible.

___

**_The exact details of the operation remain a closely guarded secret, but the Australian Minister for Magic, Mr. Lowitja Gaba, addressed the press in a conference. _****"I am pleased to inform everyone that the transgressive vampire group has been contained. An international task force conducted the sting operation. The team included A.M.L.E officers, A.R.C.M.C. officials and aurors from the British and Australian ministry. We thank all the brave witches and wizards who risked their lives to protect innocents. Our British comrades have once again proved themselves to be our strong mates. I also have to mention the support and insight we received from our vampire allies from around the world. They doled out aid and advice to discipline the dissolute devils of Tasmanhaven." _The Minister looked more relieved than he has in recent weeks._**

**_Australia is known for skilled aurors and famed A.M.L.E. force. By and large an inconspicuous group, a fraction of the vampire population here gained infamy when they launched into an unprovoked frenzy of attacks against muggles. In and around small coastal towns of New South Wales, reports of known attacks go as far back as August of last year. An indeterminate number of newly sired vampires and rumours of a 'Vampire rebel army' had been cause of immense concern to the Australian Ministry. Several attempts at negotiations were thwarted late last year. In November, ungovernable vampires attacked an Australian Ministry convoy that approached the vampire leaders of the villainous group. By ambushing and turning several A.M.L.E. members, the vampires learned precious inside information regarding the famed A.M.L.E. offence tactics. The British Ministry of Magic is said to have offered its assistance after the iniquitous attack on a 16-year-old girl._**

**_In an exclusive interview, the British Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shaklebolt spoke of the strong ties and long friendship the two countries have shared, _****"Witches and wizards from all over the world fought side-by-side with us in our fight against He-Who-Was-Defeated. Many Australian Aurors gave the ultimate sacrifice in the Final Battle. We have not forgotten the support our allies extended to us in our dark times. It is our honour and duty to stand with our friends in their fight against such brutality. Such action is demanded not only by human decency, but also by the dictates of the Muggle Protection Act and the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy."**

**_Head of the British Aurors, Gawain Robards was acutely injured during the attack, when he swooped in to save a young A.M.L.E. officer cornered by three vampires. He is said to be in critical condition at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Harry Potter, _****the Chosen One_, is Mr. Robard's second in command. With Mr. Robards out of commission, that now makes Mr. Potter the youngest wizard ever to be in charge of the British Aurors. Mr. Potter refused to comment, stating that all details will remain classified for the foreseeable future. Under conditions of anonymity, a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures estimated that about 40 vampires were slain, 15 surrendered and approximately 5 masked perpetrators took flight and remain unidentified._**

**_Also present on the scene of the raid were famed author Eldred Worple and his vampire friend Mr. Sanguini. 'Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires' is considered the foremost reference book on vampires, though its critics libel it biased. Some allege that Mr Worple merely glosses over the more dangerous aspects of vampirism. Mr Worple made some time for the Daily Prophet,_**** "Along with other concerned vampires, we have been offering consultation to the aurors for the past few weeks. We are here today, to offer the task force our support. We would like to remind your readers that not all vampires here participated in the attacks. As a rule, they lead a quiet life. We have been invited here by the Ministries, to help safeguard the rights of those law-abiding vampires of Tasmanhaven, and to ensure that the operation is conducted as per the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans."**

**_The publicity shy Mr. Sanguini refrained from commenting. However, other vampire consultants…_**

_______

Hermione was interrupted from reading further when she heard a crack from upstairs. Who would have apparated into her duplex at 5:10 a.m.? It wasn't her normal rising time yet. She heard some swearing in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Draco's. Hermione lowered her legs to the floor, straightened her back and schooled her features. Her will power had its uses.

She picked up her teacup as she heard Draco walk slowly down the stairs. Time seemed to slow down to the pace of his footfall.

Swish

Swish

Swish

Swish.

Hermione realised, perhaps for the first time that Draco's shoes hardly made any noise. Not for him, the vain _click-clacks_ of heels or the careless _thud-thuds_ of gaits uninhibited. His walk, like much else in him, was supremely controlled - sleek and dangerous, with the feline grace of a panther.

Draco entered the kitchen and looked around slowly. He eyed the newspaper next to her and made a beeline for her coffee machine. He had mastered the art of using 'the muggle contraption' this past month, much to his disdain and Hermione's uninhibited glee.

Hermione looked at him over her teacup as he walked towards her breakfast table, steaming mug in his hand. He pulled out a chair out and sat opposite her.

"Good morning, Malfoy. Good game against the Thunderers. I read you caught the snitch in a record two minutes." Calm as the Black Lake.

"Morning, Granger. Yes, I daresay I have my moments. Apropos, it may have had something to do with the vicarious indulgences of the Thunderer seeker the night before the game. He was undeniably inebriated, or as some Aussies would say, _off his face_. The sun was not doing him any favours that morning."

_Oh, so we've returned to formal pomposities. Back to square one._

"I would have thought you Quidditch players would know better than to indulge in such irresponsible behaviour. What bade him get drunk the night before a big game?"

"I did." Draco smirked. Then he just sat there, looking at her with his piercing eyes that tried to pry her secrets as they armoured their own.

"So how has Oz been treating you?" Hermione asked, wondering how to steer the conversation into discussing the article without sounding like a jealous shrew. He was the one on trial here, she reminded herself. Yet, it almost seemed as if he was waiting for _her _to reveal something.

"Splendidly. I usually find the people to be stimulating company. This trip has proved to be, shall we say, more… titillating than others."

Hermione prided herself on her even temper and calm personality. She liked to think she was slow to anger. Draco was pushing his luck. How dare he be this flagrantly unaffected? He was deliberately hinting at the article, wanting her to react to the report of his infidelity.

Why would he do that? To what purpose?

Hermione's quick mind presented various options. Draco could be angling to:  
1 see if she believed the reports  
2 gauge how much that affected her  
and/ or  
3 check if per chance she KNEW the truth for sure. That would mean he suspected her to have placed a Fidelity charm, or something of the sort.

"Draco, why don't you just go ahead and ask what you want to."

Draco looked stunned for a second. He hadn't expected her to turn the tables on him. Hermione concealed a smile behind her tea cup. It was good to be smart. He was expecting a blustering, shrieking jealous fit. He would not get that from her. Not today, not ever.

"Anything interesting in the news today, Granger?"

"Oh Merlin, yes! They rounded up the vampires near Sydney. Most of the violent ones seemed to have been slain. Some surrendered, a few got away. We should talk to Harry, he was there and must be upset, Robards was injured. I need to make sure Harry's all right." She started biting her lip in worry.

Draco cocked his head to a side, as if weighing something in his mind. Apparently coming to a conclusion, he continued, "Potter is fine. Adrenalin-charged and shaken up about Robards, but in one piece. She-Weasley will probably see him in an hour or so."

Hermione leaned forward, "You met him? He's fine? Oh, thank God! I was worried sick. I apparated over to their house as soon as I read the news but no one was there. Do you know where Ginny and the children are? I haven't had the chance to check yet."

"Potter told me they were at the Burrow with the rest of the family. He didn't want them alone."

Hermione was surprised that Draco was party to such details about her best friend and his family. "So when did you meet Harry? I suppose you heard about the operation as soon as it was over and went over to catch the action?"

"Yeah, something like that." Draco pulled his hand through his hair. Hermione wondered if he did that to distract the observer with his unkempt just-out-of-bed-look. "Listen Granger, are you going to ask me about Lorraine or do you already know?"

Hermione thought the next part through carefully, "Tell me what you think I need to know, Malfoy."

"This is going too slow for me. Here, Happy Valentine's Day." He spoke dryly as he placed a vial of a colourless liquid on the table, his thoughts concealed behind his mask of indifference.

"What's that?" she asked suspiciously.

"Veritaserum. You get one question." Draco's tone was still unaffected, his demeanour very matter-of-fact.

Hermione looked up at him in surprise. He was sitting with his arms folded across his chest, looking irritated for the first time this morning. She reached forward for the vial and uncorked it to smell it. There wasn't any distinct aroma, as characteristic of the truth serum.

"Where did you get it? Did you brew it? Why would I want you to have it? Do you have the antidote with you?" Hermione rattled off the questions as they popped into her head.

"Snape's supplies, with his knowledge for a change. No, I didn't have any handy. To ask me if I slept with Lorraine. Yes I have some antidote that we can both drink right after we've answered a question each."

Hermione shook her head trying to make sense of it all. He was willing to have Veritaserum? Did he understand the concept of honesty for the sake of it? Did he expect her to have so little faith in his word?

"Draco, I don't need you to have the truth serum to believe you. Just tell me honestly, by your own accord, and that'll be enough."

Draco looked surprised. He fell back against his chair and held his forearms open and out in front of him as he pointed in her general direction, "So let me get this straight. You had not placed a Fidelity charm or any such measure to determine if I cheated on you this year?"

Hermione looked at him, sadness evident in her eyes, "Draco, in the past eight years, you haven't given me reason to doubt your word. If anything, you are brutally honest. I like to think that if nothing else, we can trust each other to be truthful, when it matters. I know you wouldn't deceive me about something like this. If you slept with someone, you would tell me. You would afford me that much consideration, I'm sure. Besides, it's not as if I had some sole right over you or anything. We had a deal, deals get broken all the time. It isn't the end of the world." _At least not that I'd let you see._

Draco looked baffled for a moment and then completely composed the next, "Hermione, I wouldn't renege on my word to you. This isn't what it seems. I've never met Lorraine D'angelo before. I cannot divulge any details, your precious Potter has me under oath. Even having said that much would get me into trouble with the Ministry. However, since it is YOU and I know you would rather die than endanger someone, I could perhaps let on that this façade was orchestrated. I would love to say that Potter would back me on this one, but he can be a cold bastard sometimes. If he finds out we're shagging… I mean making a baby together… he would deny it just to spite me. Not that I blame him, but it does leave me in a bit of a predicament."

Draco took a deep breath, closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the chair. Hermione noticed the tired lines on his face, his grave expression and his pallid skin. She wasn't sure that she believed Draco's version of events in its entirety, not yet. He seemed to be telling the truth, though she could just be deluding herself with hopes her heart so desperately wanted to cling to.

Draco sat quietly with his eyes closed while Hermione played with the vial of the Veritaserum restlessly. When she looked back at him after a few seconds, she found him studying her.

"Mi, talk to me?"

Hermione looked away from his persuasive cornflower blue eyes and her eyes landed on the newspaper with the damning photo. "Tell me what you can."

Draco seemed to brighten a little, "Alas, I can't reveal much more than I have already. Potter will throw me in Azkaban, that fool. However, it pleases me no end that you're such an intelligent individual. It is not my faux pas if you put two and two together and deduce facts from a regular conversation, right?"

He grinned and picked up a red apple from her table before continuing, with an expectant gleam in his up-to-mischief eyes. "So, listened to any good music lately? Who is your favourite singer? I really like Lorcan d'Eath. He has a very… raw… quality about him."

Hermione's ears perked up and she searched her mind for details on the singer, "Lorcan d'Eath… heartthrob, with the hit song 'Necks to You'. Wait, he's part vampire, isn't he?"

Draco's grin widened, "Go on." He looked pointedly at the other article on the front page.

Hermione tilted he head sideways, absorbed in her new puzzle, "Lorcan d'eath… Lorraine D'Angelo. Are they related? Part vampire… she is pale enough to fit the description... you both were out at sunrise and in the evening, not during daytime. As part-vampire, she could withstand limited exposure to the sun, but would get severe rashes if she went out in the middle of the day, especially in summertime, as it is in Australia. And that dinner… that wasn't red wine, was it? Draco, tell me you weren't drinking blood!"

Draco looked smug, "_I_ wasn't. I knew those brains of yours would come in handy, Granger. Thank Merlin you aren't the types to throw emotional tantrums! I appreciate that you prefer to use logic instead. Go on then, let's see what else you can put together."

Hermione thought back to the details she'd read in the two articles. "Were Lorcan and Lorraine helping the aurors? Wait, maybe not both, maybe just one of them helped. Which one? Either ways, the general public doesn't know Lorraine is part vampire, does it? Did she change her name to conceal that?"

Draco put his arm around Hermione's chair and started playing with her hair. A proud smile graced his flawless face.

Hermione continued, "So Lorraine had to be disassociated from this vampire story to protect her identity. She needed an alibi for the day. How convenient that Slytherin-sex-god and Quidditch superstar Draco Malfoy was available in Sydney!"

Hermione could see Draco visibly swell with the description of him. She thought back to what he had let slip about Harry, "And how convenient that auror Potter could pull you into this, knowing you could be trusted."

Draco looked away for a second as if in thought then shook his head, got up and engulfed her in a hug. "Hermione, either you are brilliant or our cover was disgustingly weak. I'm leaning towards the former, though I do hope that no one else can put things together as easily as you did. Now, do you believe me when I tell you that I didn't sleep with D'Lo? I couldn't possibly, I mean she's entertaining company and all, but that name?"

Feeling better than she had in a while, Hermione smiled without restraint. "Oh, I know Draco, I know. If you had slept with her, or anyone else for that matter, you wouldn't have been able to sit on that beloved broom of yours for a while. The most interesting attack of boils in your delicate regions would prevent that."

Draco looked at Hermione in astonishment. "You _did_ cast a fidelity charm?"

Hermione cleared the table of the cups and moved towards the refrigerator to take out some eggs, "You'd love to find out, wouldn't you? Have you had breakfast?"

Shaking his head, Draco sighed. "No, I haven't had dinner yet. I just got free from the fracas and apparated over, after a detour to Snape's chambers. He wasn't too pleased to see me at this time in the morning. Grumpy old bugger. Could have saved myself from his delightful company though, this went much easier than I'd expected. You're a decent sport Hermione."

Hermione recognised that attempt to be the sincerest way he knew to express a 'thank you'. She looked at him in awe before turning to scramble the eggs. "You braved Snape in all his morning glory, so you could take Veritaserum for me?" Would Draco ever cease to surprise her?

Draco shrugged in response, "Well, yeah. I wasn't expecting you to be as gullible… I mean, smart." He smirked. "I had my stipulations of course, you were only allowed to ask me one question. I figured I knew which one you'd ask."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief, and put some bread in the toaster. "Draco, if I had decided to doubt you, why would I believe the potion to be real? For all I know, it could be plain water that you were drinking and professing honesty."

Draco picked up three apples from her table and started juggling, "My diabolical mind is a step ahead of yours, Granger. Remember, I told you, you would have to drink the Veritaserum too, and answer one question for me. That would have proven to you that it was the real thing."

Hermione took her attention away from his juggling to add the finishing touches to the eggs; really, was there anything the man couldn't do? Still with her back to him, she continued, "Draco, if we can't have trust in this arrangement, it isn't worth much. I wouldn't want you to drink the potion. I definitely wouldn't have taken it for you either. Who knows what secrets you would pry from me. By the way, I know what you expected me to ask, but what were _you_ planning to ask?"

Getting up from the table, Draco walked over to where she stood and hugged her from behind.

"Would you answer me, if I asked?" his handsome face sported a coy smile.

Hermione thought about that for a moment, as she forked the egg onto two plates and buttered the toast. "If it is so important to you, that you would have asked me under the influence of the truth potion, I guess I can attempt to answer it. I can't promise, though."

They headed to the table and began to eat.

"I was going to cheat, you know. I was going to ask two." Even with food in his mouth, Draco managed to smirk.

Hermione shook her head in amusement, "Okay, if I answer the two questions honestly, will you answer two that I ask?"

Draco looked up from his plate, "I'll try. If I cannot answer them truthfully, I'll say pass, how's that?"

"That's fair. Go on, then." Hermione braced herself.

"Have you ever slept with Weasley?" Hermione could see the difference in Draco's body language; one couldn't hazard a guess to his true sentiments or thoughts. He watched her with guarded eyes as he continued to eat his dinner nonchalantly. Honestly, this mattered to him?

"Which one?" she asked and then felt a little repentant, as he choked over his toast and started coughing. She went over and thumped his back, perhaps a little harder than necessary. Served him right for making her go through all the angst recently.

Draco had some of the orange juice that Hermione had set out for them, it seemed to help alleviate the pharyngeal obstruction. "Have you slept with more than one Weasley? And no, that is not the second question, it is a continuation of the first one."

"Does Ginny count?" Hermione grinned as she saw his eyes grow wider before they went blank. "Granger!" he groaned.

Hermione decided to take pity on him. "No Draco, I haven't slept with any of the Weasleys. Though I don't really get why it was important enough for you to ask me under the influence of Veritaserum. I would have told you anyways." Feeling emboldened and less wary, she encouraged him to ask the second question.

Draco kept his fork down for this one. He leaned forward and hooked a finger under her jaw, "Did you have a thing for me, year Seven? You know, Grimmauld Place, the forests, that whole phase."

Hermione was taken aback, but his firm hand under her chin didn't let her pull back or look away. She hadn't seen this one coming. Why did he ask this question? Had he suspected it then? She felt vulnerable, exposed. She couldn't say 'pass'. If she did, her answer would be obvious. And she didn't want to lie; it was a matter of honour. This was why she had never participated in foolhardy games of Truth and Dare.

"How does it matter Draco? And that is my first question."

Draco let her go and sat back in his chair, arms folded in front of his chest. He looked sombre. "I've mentioned it before Granger, I've wanted you for some time. It matters."

Hermione felt warmth steal all over her body, she couldn't help it. She looked squarely at him and replied, "Yes Malfoy, I had a thing for you, Seventh year. Grimmauld Place, the forests, that whole phase..."

Draco smiled broadly at her.

"… but I got over It." she smiled back. Draco's smile changed to a smirk as he finished his dinner and picked up his plate to place it in the sink. "Sure you did. Now, what's your second question, Granger?"

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how do you rate me in bed?" Hermione had her back to him as he was behind her, near the sink. Perhaps that had given her the courage to ask? Draco was quiet. Why was he still quiet? If he said pass, she'd throttle him!

She heard him approach her from behind. He sat on the chair closest to her, sought out her hands one by one, held them firmly in his and then kissed her forehead.

"Mi…" He brought up his hand to tuck some hair behind her right ear. Hermione's bent eyes raised to meet his Sun-through-the-snowstorm eyes.

"… this is the truth, you are the best I've ever had."

She was lost again in the play of the light and shadows in his ever-changing eyes. Rendered still. She saw his glance steal to her lips so she wet them. He groaned, and planted his soft, firm, pink lips on hers, caressing them with his tongue. They didn't talk for a while after that, except when he caught her hand to tug her up the stairs towards her bedroom.

"Happy Valentine's, Granger. There's something I want to show you."

* * *

**Do consider reviewing. It takes me ages to write, research, edit, reject, write, reject, research, write, edit. I consider reviews my reward for the effort. I did post 14 pages (not including my notes). Do consider posting a line or two? Thank you much!**

~)(~ To the concrit and kind reviewers, thank you. You make the flaming dolts worth it :) You also give me more joy than you could ever know. A hug for bookworm708 - she reviewed all 22 chapters in one go! I am most grateful to these fabulous reviewers that helped us cross the 200 landmark in ch 21: HarryPGinnyW4eva, Fantasy Trickster, Team Dramione, tfobmv18, peaceloveberries, GabrielaHP, spikeecat, margaritama, Bjornsdotter, nathy7, mentarisenja, Italian Rose, Evil Tobi, anneodette, Li0n3ss, ginnylovesharry07, ClaireBear xo, SolarGuardianChick, bookworm708,

**~)(~** **Credit to HP Lexicon, Wikipedia and Harry Potter Wikia** for their wealth of knowledge on characters and concepts that were briefly mentioned in the HP books. **Terms borrowed from Canon **(amongst everything else of course):  
~Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures  
~Muggle Protection Act  
~International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy  
~Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans (Vampires were categorised NWPH.)  
~'Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires' authored by EldredWorple. Worple and Sanguini attended a Slughorn party.  
~Lorcan d'eath was Wizard of the Month in November, 2006 on JKR's website.  
~Thundelarra Thunderers and Woollongong Warriors are fiercely competitive Australian Quidditch teams.  
~Gawain Robards headed the Aurors after July 1996, after Rufus Scrimgeour was made Minister.  
~In the British version of the books, the term was Minister **FOR** Magic; in the US it was Minister _of _Magic. I'll try to stick to the UK version henceforth.  
~ I know Hermione's middle name is now 'Jean' (!!) but I prefer Jane.

**~)(~** I hadn't mentioned the Aussies or aurors from other countries in my Final Battle scene. I realised recently that there should have been no reason for only Brit aurors to fight against Voldy. The whole world was probably involved. I've altered a sentence in that chapter to reflect this.

**~)(~ AUSTRALIAN SLANG GLOSSARY:**

Down Under = Land of Oz = Australia

Off one's face: drunk ("He was off his face by 9pm")

Sheila: a woman

Woop Woop: invented name for any small unimportant town - "he lives in Woop Woop"

Yabber: talk (a lot)

Reference: **koalanetDOTcomDOTau **

It is a wonderful website for learning some things 'Australian'. I exchanged the following emails with the very helpful moderator:

* * *

Dear All:

First, my congratulations on a brilliant website. It's fun and informative.

Second: How current is the slang mentioned in the dictionary? I write a fiction for an online community (credited your website of course). I used some of the slang in my fiction... And Australian readers got upset, saying they don't talk like that. The words I used (not in normal conversation, but in exaggerated humor) were: Yobo, Shiela, Oz, Yabber, Woop woop, Stoked and 'full of goog'.

The reviewers mentioned they'd heard woop woop and stoked but the others were either redundant or unheard of. I did not mean to offend anyone so I was surprised. I'd thought they'd be amused. Sigh!

So anyway, could you please let me know if there's perhaps a region this slang is used more in than others or if the slang was common some time ago but has been replaced with more contemporary usage?

Thank you again for your website and I will strongly appreciate your time for a reply. As of now I have removed that chapter as I want to 'get my facts straight' as a reviewer reccomended I do :)

Oh and I signed off with a Hoo roo and Ta tar... and one of them got offended with the reference to a kangaroo (!)

* * *

This was his very considerate reply:

Those words are all in current usage with the possible exception of "as full as a goog" which I haven't heard for a while. Any Australian who hasn't heard at least one instance of Yobbo, Sheila and Oz during the last 12 months must move in very polite circles.

I suppose some words are specific to an area but I wouldn't care to pin them down and I always get a second opinion before I add a word.

Hooroo coincidentally has the same last 3 letters as kangaroo, just as Waterloo coincidentally has the same last 2 letters. Totally unrelated to each other and the objection from that person can safely be ignored.

Having said all that, Australian slang, like that of any other country, has to be used in context and not to excess. It's easy to get it wrong if you don't hear it every day. Imagine an Australian or a Frenchman writing a short story peppered with New York or Yiddish slang - it would, I suggest, be a painful experience!

* * *

Thank you to everyone who actually read the insanely long AN! You made it all this way? Here's a cookie! No, wait! Here's a dozen! And some cake, and some pastries. And a hug. Okay, I'll stop now.

Cheers!

D


	23. Good Things

Our thoughts and sincere prayers remain with those who have suffered in the Australian wildfires. I wish I had adequate words.

* * *

Disclaimer: Not mine, JKR's. Draco though, I have stolen, and I refuse to return him.

~)(~ Thank you to EVERYONE for the overwhelming response to the last post. I am grateful beyond words for your support and I find I need to mention you individually (in order of reviewing): ginnylovesharry07, ssnape, Black Antares,Fantasy Trickster, HarryPGinnyW4eva, Roxie Black, Italian Rose, Natcch, tfobmv18, 18polo, bookworm708, avonstar, peaceloveberries, SolarGuardianChick, Li0n3ss, mentarisenja, margaritama, loonyluna423, nathy7, krazyk, ClaireBear xo, softporcupine, greeneyedvixen, Maibe Josie, ally leigh, moniqueblack20, Super-girl-straight-from-hell, Amais, xCailinNollaigx, caseyjarryn, X-miss black-X-, Evil Tobi, Blue-Stardust

**Replies to signed reviews for the last chapter on the way, with deleted-scenes/ insights as a little token of appreciation. **Though it may take me a few more days still. You've spoiled me though, I am now addicted to your reviews, so you have to, have to review again. Promise? Thanks!!!!

~)(~ Some reviewers have asked **if Hermione is pregnant** already and though she may have been hormonal recently, nothing's in the oven. The two got together at New Yrs Eve and it is Feb 15. It has just been 1 ½ month and Draco has been gone for long chunks of time. The next chapter, I jump to month 3 and who knows what will happen then? I do. (Grins evilly)

~)(~ Just an FYI, I'm **NO**T planning to write a **baby in this story**. The fic will be over by the time a baby arrives. Yes, the irony, there will be no _heir_ in Heir Brained. This just isn't that fic, I'm afraid.

~)(~ I wrote a **one-shot** to see if I could write one and dedicated it to you guys. Please check it out and let me know what you think. Also someone please tell me, what is the difference between a drabble and a one-shot?

~)(~ Here is a **fluffy** **chapter** as a belated Valentine's day gift. I'd written another version before Valentine's, but it was flimsy and full of holes, like the tasteless lingerie I had incorporated. This, hopefully, is better. Refr to chapter _Crash Boom Bang_ for the evening in question. I wanted to add some substance but then it became too long. So that's the next chapter. Hermione is in for a surprise.

~)(~ As always, **Dixie_Charmer** ensured that the chapter become a much more palatable version than the original. **My thanks**. Keep an eye out for the double meanings that she and I have sprinkled in.

* * *

**Good Things**

Walking up the stairs with her hand in Draco's firm grasp, Hermione felt content as she played with numbers in her head.

Hermione understood numbers.

She understood positions and she liked being on top. She had out-scored everyone at school and out-preformed everyone in her department, which she now headed. In bed, lamentably, Hermione had never received critical acclaim. She'd offered a scale to Draco to rate her performance, because she could wrap her mind around a scale. "Outstanding" or "Exceeds expectations" in bed would have been too subjective, too ambiguous. Ideally she would have liked it quantified in percentile, but a simple scale would sound less obsessive. She had been expecting at least a 10, hoping for a 12. 'The Best He'd EVER Had' would do just fine. Draco _had_ sampled many a fare.

Rumour had it that Draco had lost his virginity in 5th year, to a 7th year Slytherin who had been watching him grow quite carefully. Apparently, the girl had decided she'd waited long enough when she saw his hungry eyes assessing the delectable curves on display. One could safely assume that once initiated, he would have found the activity quite palatable, and tried at least 10 other Hogwarts specialities. Considering his reputation, it could be higher… and this number did not take into consideration any second-helpings nor did it account for his appetite during the hot summer vacations.

6th year was probably a drought for him, what with becoming a Death Eater and planning to… well, you-know-what. Still, he must have managed minimum two spreads. The year in the forests was spent in study with the Yogi and hunting Horcruxes. Other than herself, the only individuals he had had contact with were Swami ji, Harry and Ron. She did not believe he partook in those epicurean delights, so it must have been more of a self-serve arrangement.

Then, say, he resumed his Bon-Vivant ways after 18… he'd had about 8½ years of sowing his oats. Sticking to the conservative estimate of one a week, he must have slept with

(365 ¼ days a year X 8 ½ yrs / 7 days a week)

… roughly 443.52 girls. Plus the 12 from Hogwarts. Wait, he had dated that blue-blooded Adalina for 4 months. Hermione doubted that he'd have been disloyal to Adalina, she was intimidating in her own special ways. So that was about 16 weeks and 16 girls subtracted.

After 'experiencing' 439.52 + girls from around the world he still professed Hermione as the best he'd ever had. Yes, that would do quite well.

'O' in bed, Check.

Hermione had studied the books _Kama Sutra, I Can't Believe You Can Do This Without Potions_ and the _Joys of Sex_, along with muggle porn movies before New Years. As always, her preparation seemed to have served her well. She still had the pedagogical materials. Maybe Draco would like to peruse them with her?

They were headed to her bedroom. What did Draco want to show her here?

As Draco opened the door to her room, he looked a little unsure. She didn't remember seeing him unsure. Ever.

There in front of her, in an incomprehensible mess, was her recently refurbished room. Pillows were torn apart and feathers fell softly like snowflakes. Her still-new linen was slashed through. Many of the silver accessories that Draco had planted around the room lay fallen, some wrecked beyond repair, some dented by gravity.

On top of her bedside muggle lamp, precariously perched was a large Eurasian Eagle-owl. A cage, that had presumably failed to hold the defiant bird, gently rolled to and fro on the floor, emitting an ominous creak with each oscillation towards and away from the dresser.

Hermione stared at her room, the bird, then Draco… who looked like he could sport some colour on his face after all. From where she stood, Hermione assessed the damage quickly. Nothing major had been lost. She was just grateful that her books all rested undisturbed in her study.

"I guess it got out?" was all he said, as he examined the room that Hermione usually kept annoyingly tidy.

Hermione focussed on the bird again. It was larger than Serapha, with similar colouring; the white, black and grey provided the birds camouflage for their snow-laden native regions. Then she noticed a bandage on its left wing. Oh, so that's why the damage was kept to the lower levels of the room, at least some of the decor was still intact.

The bird shook its head vehemently, as if protesting its current situation, whatever it perceived its unfortunate circumstances to be.

Hermione looked towards Draco, who was approaching the bird with care. His hand out in truce, holding some owl treats. "Here Zephyrus, come now, Hagrid said these were your favourite. I'm putting these in your cage, just get in for a little while, right? I'll take you back to Hagrid if things don't work out. Go on, be a decent bird."

Hermione looked at Draco in wonderment, as he patiently led the awkward bird back into the cage. The patient part captured her attention. As far as she knew, Draco ought have been displeased or at the very least, irritated at the bird's destructive behaviour. Instead, he was being almost conciliatory.

Once Zephyrus was safely contained, Hermione picked up her wand and uttered "Reparo" to restore the damage caused by the magnificent bird. With a practiced flick of her wrist and a softly muttered spell, the room was restored to its previous pristine condition. She then turned to face Draco, who was rubbing his hand where he'd just received a quick nip from Zephyrus.

"So, this is what you wanted to show me?" Hermione smiled to let him know she wasn't upset.

"I had hoped for the bird to be in the cage looking pitiable, not spreading the pathos of catastrophe unto the room."

Hermione looked at the bird that now looked very timid, as if expecting punishment for its misdemeanour. "Is it one of Hagrid's pets? It looks too benign to have attracted his attention."

Draco sat down on his side of the bed, took off his shoes and leaned back against the headboard. He looked tired again. "I was telling Blaise that I wanted to get you an owl, considering you keep having to go to the Ministry to use their Lilliputian runts. He joked that he'd give me one for free, if I could take it off his hands. It seems Asteria is fond of Owl racing. Yes, Granger, it is a legal sport, as reprehensible as it may seem to you. So anyway, Zephyrus was one of her favourites but it got injured in an event. It can fly, but not for a while and never fast enough to race again. The owners were about to put it down and Asteria barely rescued it in time. However, she hadn't anticipated its anti-social nature. The owl has not taken well to the confinement of domesticity. It is belligerent with the other owls in the Zabini owlery and you've just borne witness to what it does to rooms. Its redeeming qualities also include nipping and scratching, so the Zabinis are concerned for their little daughter's safety. Their house elves are currently sporting more bandages than clothes, which, let me assure you, is an abominable visual. The elves have threatened to quit, which could possibly turn the Zabini's into laughing stock. So, the Zabinis are in bits, wondering what to do with the owl. I presumed this kind of salvation would appeal to your benevolence and offered to take Zephyrus off their hands. Hagrid has been nursing its injured wing for a week now, and Zephyrus seems to be calming down a smidgen. So, if you'd like to keep it, it's yours?" Draco said the last part like a query.

Hermione took her time processing the information. She knew Zabini managed the Malfoy business in Draco's absence; she knew that they must be close for Draco to trust Zabini with his finances. She hadn't known they were close enough for Draco to have discussed Hermione. Did that mean Zabini knew about their arrangement? She'd have to ask.

Asteria Zabini (née Greengrass) was a pureblood Slytherin who was now an Unspeakable at the Department of Mysteries. That she had been a fan of Owl-racing didn't surprise Hermione. That she had been compassionate enough to rescue an injured bird did. Hermione censured her thoughts… being sharp and ambitious does not make one heartless. From the conversation, Hermione could ascertain that the Zabinis paid their elves. Hermione had socialised with the couple on the rare societal occasions she accompanied Draco, and they had proved to be very pleasant company. The Slytherins shared a sarcastic banter that Hermione considered an amusing spectator sport. Maybe Hermione would send Asteria a note of appreciation?

Hermione was against any 'sport' that abused animals. Dog racing, horse racing, owl racing – they all seemed to exact as much as possible from an animal, sometimes at the expense of the animal's health. Though many owners and handlers took excellent care of their animals, there were some who were abhorrently lacking in humanity; indeed, they were more animalistic than the pets they owned. Once the animal stopped being useful, they abandoned, killed or sold it for leather/ useful body parts. She found people who got involved in illegal sports like dog fighting revolting and despicable, but she also regarded with infinite contempt, the individuals who abandoned or mistreated animals.

Hermione now regarded the Zabinis in favour that she hadn't afforded them before. She felt strong compassion for the owl. Poor thing, he'd spent his life winning trophies and monetary awards for his owner and when he was injured, instead of nursing it, they had tried to kill him! No wonder the owl was troubled, it probably had abandonment issues. Hermione was touched that Draco had taken it upon himself to help the bird. She was glad he'd taken it to Hagrid, no other could tend to an injured creature better. She walked slowly towards the cage, murmuring softly in a dulcet tone. The bird tilted its head, trying to make up its mind about the new human. Hermione knew the proud bird would take time to trust her. Still, that it had listened to Draco and gotten back into the cage was a good sign.

"Thank you for bringing him here Draco. I love him already. I'll read some books on abandoned pets and rescued animals, to see how we can best get along." She reached into the popcorn reserves she kept near her window and offered some to Zephyrus. He sniffed at it and turned his back on Hermione. Then he turned his head around 180 degrees and swiftly picked up the popcorn before she could retract her hand.

Draco grinned at Hermione, "I'm sure you will, pet. Here, you can start with these." He took out two books from the drawer in his night table. Hermione went to sit on the bed, next to him. Both books were on animal psychology. Hermione looked at his relaxed face and grinned, "You were so sure I'd take him."

"I was confident about your saviour complex, yes. I knew you would not forego a chance to comfort an anguished soul." He leaned back, his hands behind his head.

Affronted, Hermione threw a cushion at his face.

"Watch it, Granger, this is a superlative nose! I'm considering insuring it. Now, did you get me something equally unique for Valentine's?"

Hermione looked shame-faced as she walked over to the chest of drawers where she had placed the silver cuff links, back in their original packing. Compared to the rescue owl, the cuff links seemed so insignificant.

"Uh… I wasn't sure we were doing Valentine's, so I got something small. It isn't even wrapped!" She looked at him apologetically, "The upside is it won't bite or scratch."

She gave him the bag from the collectible's store and he opened it with enthusiasm. When he saw the silver cuff links, he looked genuinely pleased.

"Thank you Granger, these are really modish. They'll go perfectly with the new dress robes I got from Australia. How did you know I needed silver square cuff links?"

Either Draco desperately needed a pair of square silver cuff links or he was an unconvincing actor. At the moment, Hermione suspected the latter.

"That reminds me," he continued, "I got this for you from there..." he bent down to retrieve a box from under the bed, "… just in case you didn't want the owl. I wanted to pick up an opal bracelet, but I imagined you frothing at the mouth about jewellery, so that dissuaded me. You nag enough, as is."

Draco received another blow to his head from an accessible cushion.

"Watch it Granger, you're pushing it now." Hermione wasn't convinced he was kidding, so she kept the cushion down and untied the green satin ribbon around the ivory coloured box. Inside the green tissue she found a plush toy, a Koala bear, being hugged endearingly by a baby Koala. It was grey, incredible soft and extremely huggable. She looked at him with a goofy grin. "This is adorable Draco, thank you!"

Draco was sans expression as he replied, "There's something else in there, though I reckon it's more for me than you."

Hermione could sense his calm anticipation as she took out the layer of tissue that hid her third gift today. She first felt and then saw the forest green silk emerge into a kimono like she had never seen before. The kimono was soft as butter and undoubtedly expensive. The bottom one third of the robe was died a deep shade of emerald with a single silver cherry blossom branch going up diagonally so it ended just below the waist line. Its gorgeous silver Obi sash was made out of elaborate silk brocade with an intricate embroidered pattern.

"This is amazing Draco. Thank you. I don't know what to say. I feel so horrid; all I got for you was an unimaginative pair of cuff links! Can I ask though, why a kimono from Australia?"

"The team went out for dinner to the International District in Steep Hills one night. I saw this in the window of a Japanese boutique. The image of you in those Chinese robes… I can't get it out of my mind." He bent forward and kissed her forehead, captivating eyes now more black than grey, pupils more dilated than not. "I figured I'd replace it with one of you taking the Kimono off for me."

"You liked the way I looked that night?" Hermione's thoughts went back to the fateful night years ago. She had been wearing a silver and green cheongsam, flirting with the Child-Healer Troy in a restaurant. Draco had walked in with the gorgeous Adalina when Hermione hadn't even known he was in town, upsetting her equilibrium and raining on her parade of prospective 'romantic' interests. It had twisted her up like little else, culminated in a disastrous adventure with poor Troy and pushed Hermione into her Tree-Draught induced state of numbness. The only good to come from that evening was that it had halted her Find-the-Replacement pageant.

"The Slytherin come-hither look? How could I resist?" Draco reached up to her top and started unbuttoning it.

"You were there with Adalina." Hermione reminded him.

"You were there with Troy." He had unfastened the last button and was undoing her with his feather soft touches.

Hermione kept the kimono back on the bed and got up. In a reflex too fast for her to have seen it, his hand held her wrist. "Where do you think you are going?"

"I'll be right back, I promise." Hermione picked up Zephyrus's cage and put it outside her door, which she shut firmly. She wanted no witnesses for what was to follow.

Hermione wore the kimono for him. As an improvised Valentine's gift, she introduced Draco to her muggle pedagogical resources. She took the Kimono off for him.

She got late for work, for the first time in eight and a half years.

~)(~

* * *

Give me a belated Valentine's gift? You know what…


	24. Relativity

AN: Dear all, I am EXTREMELY sorry for the long break. I am also extremely regretful that I have not been able to reply to reviewers from the last 2 chapters. I went home for 3 weeks- a wedding, family, friends, food and frolicking meant I had no time for fan fiction. Before I left, and now that I am back, I am working 12 hour days and 6 days a week and am TIIIRED! To make up for the delay, I'm posting 18 pages. Hope you like it. Hope you tell me either ways. I promise you that each and every review (appreciative or concrit) means more to me than I could faithfully express and encourages me more than you could know.

My deepest gratitude to Super-girl-straight-from-hell who provided a name for the Australian School of Magic. She also came up with the very funky details of the school's location; I just cut pasted her whole paragraph verbatim. She is a great writer, please check her stories out.

A big thank you to these recent reviewers: peaceloveberries, Fantasy Trickster, Li0n3ss, caseyjarryn, margaritama, tfobmv18, nathy7, Sarjhi, HarryPGinnyW4eva, ebbe04, Jenneens, ane4707, karexdarkxkiss, Super-girl-straight-from-hell, Frozen Darkness

Dixie Charmer rocks and rules!

Like many authors in fanfic, I like Draco and Hermione referring to each other by their last names. I like that chemistry. I also have a very old, very dear friend - he and I still call each other by our last names. That's just who we are. We are not, Malfoy and Granger though. Honestly to me, Draco calling her "Granger" seems in itself, a turn on. I even remember reading a long essay by an author stating that they would always call each other 'Malfoy' and 'Granger' and not fall into 'Draco' and 'Hermione' on a regular basis. Instinctively, I agree.

* * *

**Relativity: It's you. It's all in my head. No, it's you.**

Time has a strange way about it.

The Space Time continuum combines space and time into a single manifold to better explain the workings of the universe at the magical, super galactic and subatomic levels. It suggests that while a line drawn between two points on a paper is one dimensional, a plane (the paper) is two dimensional, space (where the paper exists) is three dimensional; the universe, (the EVENT of the line being drawn- the where and when the paper exists) is four dimensional. The fourth dimension being time.

In arithmancy, Hermione had learnt to treat time as universal and constant, being independent of the state of motion of an observer. Yet, she had also learned the relativistic contexts popularized by the muggleborn wizard Albert Einstein: time cannot be separated from the three dimensions of space, because the rate at which time passes depends on an object's velocity relative to the speed of light and also, gravitational fields. Wizard physicists had been playing with time for a long time. The time turner and the clock in the Department of Mysteries were two by products. Experiments had revealed several things:

Time slowed down at high speeds.

Time slowed down in intense gravitational fields

Objects became shorter in the direction that they moved with respect to the observer.

An individual's choices affected events which could dramatically alter the possible co-existing 'futures' or dimensions.

Like much else, the concept of space-time intrigued Hermione and she had read vociferously on the topic; muggle and wizarding volumes that would intimidate a less indomitable spirit. A retired unmentionable had let it slip to her that he had spent a lifetime trying to comprehend the complexities of the string theory that predicted 10 or 26 dimensions while the M-theory predicted 11 dimensions. The wizards understood magic to be one of the dimensions that muggle scientists loosely characterised as transmutable energy.

Everyone was flummoxed in the end, some just less than others. She could offer her own guesses to the dimensions, and knew they would make little sense – the soul of the observer, faith, intent, thought, love, actions. Surely, they could all affect the universe as much as the length and breadth of a line? But, what did she know? Time was as elusive a concept to her today as it had been the first time she had flipped the time-turner in disbelieving awe.

Take the variations in passage of time in the diverse aspects of her life. Sometimes it felt like it flitted across her nose happily like a yellow butterfly on it's merry way to the next buttercup. At other times, all Hermione could discern was the faint buzzing of a passing bee. Barely experienced, never seen. Spurts and drags.

Fast and slow.

Fast- Time she spent with James and Lilliana

Fast- Time she had to accomplish the unending tasks at work

Fast- Time invested reading a good book, and there were so many!

Faster- Ticking of her body clock

Fastest- Time she spent with Draco

Slow- Time between her rendezvous with Draco

Slow- Time wasted in bureaucratic meetings – she could have worked so much in the hours they argued over a law on how to best dispose of clothes sprinkled with fairy dust! So one cat was seen flying out of a trashcan in an alley way and a homeless muggle had to be obliviated. One incident does not require 2 hours from officials of 4 departments! She had had to express this disgruntlement, when it seemed like another 2 hours would be wasted over a lunch intended to discuss the topic to an agonising death.

Slow- The passage of her monthly cycles the last two months. She felt the firming of her breast, the developments in her belly and hoped with fervour that these were signs of pregnancy, not PMS.

Slower- Time it took for the pregnancy test to give her the result. A lack of lines telling her she was not pregnant. Three excruciating minutes followed by an hour of denial, anger and disappointment. Acceptance usually came the second hour.

Slow- Time it had taken to pin down Harry to have a conversation with him

Slower- Time that the long drawn conversation had taken with Four-eyes. Oops. Too much time with Draco? No, no such notion existed.

Hermione had written to the head of the Australian Department of Regulation and Care of Magical Creatures, congratulating them for their success and offering any support that she might be able to extend as the head of the corresponding department in Britain. (Though of course, she had changed the name from 'Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures' to 'Department of Relations with Magical Creatures.)

Monad Nomad was an erudite, a well-respected witch who had spent over a decade travelling the globe, researching many a magical creatures. She was the chief contributor to the internationally acclaimed _The Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures and their Magical Ways_. MS. Nomad had served as the Headmistress of the Young Witches and Wizards of Oz Academy of Magic for 5 years, the maximum term allowed by the school board.

The great Australian bite is a large chunk of land off the southern coast of Australia that was made unplottable by the Australian magical society to protect it's young, so they could be educated in comparative safety. There, into the side of one of the high blue mountains the school had been constructed partly inside the earth. The 12 Apposals are the apperation points that tourists came to view from around the world. Like platform 9 ¾, only twice a year and only to students with authentic school letters, one Apposal opens up to allow students to find their way to the Academy.

MS Nomad's 'reign' at the Oz Academy had been so stellar that the teachers, students, parents and the board members themselves had petitioned for an extension. She had declined, revealing that the psychology of dangerous magical creatures was far simpler to fathom when compared against hormone-driven adolescents.

Ms Nomad was not known to mince her words. She was fair, balanced and very open-minded. She was also honest, direct and cut to the chase without the preambles of expected diplomacy. This sometimes ruffled feathers amongst the subjects of her address. The Centaurs, for example, obsessively fond of their indistinctness, were said to act even more equivocal in her company, ostensibly to avenge an impatient criticism regarding their ambiguity. Mostly, though, the various magical beings of Australia respected her, or tolerated her well enough if you were to ask the immigrant Veelas their opinion.

It came as no little surprise to Hermione when she received this reply from MS. Nomad:

_Ms Granger,_

_Head,_

_BDRMC_

_Thank you for your owl and your offer of assistance. Your tone of genuine regret due to your lack of involvement in the sting surprised me. It implies that you have not been made aware of the stipulation that was included with the British aid. The British Aurors notified us that since one of either department was needed in Britain at all times for security reasons, we could only choose to accept help from either of the two departments. I regret that the men in the Australian Ministry were of the opinion that the British Aurors would be of a greater help against the vampires than the British DRMC. Had it been made available, undoubtedly, your acumen would have enabled us to arrest the vampires that got away, with much little collateral damage. Don't misunderstand me, I am entirely grateful for the British Aurors help. I was just disappointed that we were not getting the advantage of your insight as well. As a fellow witch in a testosterone filled world, I would want to know such details and thus share them with you in the healthiest of spirits._

_Regards,_

_Monad Nomad_

_Head,_

_ADRCMC_

Hermione was incensed! _How dare he? The insufferable, egotistical, dominating He-who-defeated-Voldy-with my-help scar-face. Oops._

The usually available friend now became a blurred vision in one of Madame Trelawney's crystal balls… she imagined she saw Harry, then she didn't.

Finally, on a Friday morning, when she knew Harry would be in his office, she walked in. Gawain Robards' personal assistant, Liberella Sanders, was currently assisting Harry, acting Head of the British Aurors in the recuperating man's absence. Libby, as she was known around the ministry, was about to greet Hermione cheerfully, when Hermione mimed zipping her lips with a conspiratorial wink. Determinedly and quietly she approached Harry's private cabin and opened the door.

Harry looked up and the surprise at her presence was evident on his face, as was the discomfiture that followed. Before he could try to extricate himself from the situation with some excuse or another, she shut the door behind her and forestalled him, "Don't even try Harry James Potter. I have never thought you a coward, don't make me start now. Explain to me why Nomad was of the opinion that you had barred my involvement in this whole vampire incident."

Harry looked down, his ears red.

"So it's TRUE? You stipulated that as the head of the corresponding department, and therefore, technically, the most able to help, I would not be made available?"

Harry's face was red too. "Hermione please understand, I had my reasons."

Hermione sat down on the chair in front of his desk and sighed in exasperation. "Of all the sneaky, underhanded, irresponsible stunts to pull! Right then, spell out these reasons. And don't bother with the British security farce that you offered to the Australians. You don't think like that, you are an all systems go kind of person."

Harry picked up the quill on his desk and started fiddling with it nervously. "You won't like it, but please understand where I am coming from? We needed to keep you safe and that meant keeping you away."

"Harry that is so weak! You were there when that whole Voldermort fiasco happened. I have no passion for safety and I think it has been soundly established that I can take care of myself. And 'we'? Who is 'we'?"

Harry looked even more uncomfortable. "Eh, Ginny."

"You expect me to believe that you confided in Ginny, details of the vampire sting-op and she coerced you into leaving me out? You really need to work on your stories. One, you would never reveal classified details to your wife. Two, she would want you as safe as possible and that would mean she would want me on the scene more than anyone, because she knows I have your back. When did you start lying to me Harry?"

Harry now looked composed again, in control. "Since you started dating a Slytherin and thought it appropriate to lie to me about it, Hermione." His jade eyes bore holes into her soul.

Hermione was reminded of why people were intimidated by her best friend. Even though she had been privy to his more vulnerable side through some heart-wrenching times, she had never lost sight of the fact that Harry Potter was a formidable force. He had the aura of a leader, the raw force of a tornado. Right now, he had the energy of one not to be messed with. It was her turn to look away, shame-faced.

"We're not dating Harry. We don't have a relationship. We just enjoy each other's company and have decided to keep it for a while.

She was still looking out the window in his office when he surprised her by his next revelation, "You can save yourself the trouble Mione, Draco told me."

"He told you? He TOLD you? Why did HE tell you? I wanted to tell you but he forbade me to! That snake! Wait, what did he tell you?"

Harry looked embarrassed, then shrugged, "First he told me I couldn't involve you in the Vampire business. I wasn't planning to, so it was moot. That he felt motivated to want keep you away, made me wonder. So, I played the player." Harry looked a smidge smug as he continued, "I built a story about how your department's involvement was necessary and you would be conspicuous in your absence. He tried to convince, cajole and coerce, but I was having too much fun, so didn't budge. Finally he relented and told me you could be pregnant. I have to tell you Hermione, there may have been times when I wanted to physically beat that blast-ended-skrewt to mince but I don't remember a time when I wanted to do it more, other than that time with Dumbledore. So are you? Pregnant?"

Hermione shook her head and Harry heard the yearning in her voice when she replied, "No, I am not."

"Hermione, what were you thinking? A baby with Malfoy?! No wedding? What in Merlin's name ARE you doing, please tell me!? I have already told you what I think about you dating him but you are old enough to make your decisions. My thoughts on you having a child with him, out of wedlock, you don't even want me to start expressing, these windows might shatter. I would love to know why you would allow yourself to be in this unbelievably bizarre position though. It is not like you to be this irresponsible."

Hermione put her head on the table, hiding behind her arms. She'd wanted to do this her own way. She'd envisioned ways to announce her pregnancy to her loved ones. In her daydreams they were mildly shocked but then immediately ecstatic for her. I mean, what else could one say to a woman who was already joyously pregnant? They would have to be somewhat diplomatic. Plus SHE had wanted to be the one to tell her best friend. It wasn't fair that Draco beat her to it, so she was made to look like she was keeping secrets. Which reminded her, if Draco had told Harry, why hadn't he mentioned it to her? Maybe he would have deduced that she would get mad. She was, a little. A part of her thrilled though, in the knowledge that Draco was looking out for her behind the scenes. He cared. That was endearing. What had he told Harry? How had he explained their arrangement? Harry knew they weren't planning to get married, but what had Draco said about her? She decided she was going to find out.

"I'll tell you if you tell me." She looked back up to Harry, replying to his query regarding the thought process that her propelled her down this tumultuous path. Her eyes landed on the pensieve that he had inherited from Dumbledore. It lay in a position of prominence on the shelf behind him

"Tell you what?" Harry looked guarded now. He didn't pull it off as well as Draco did, a partial section of her mind noted.

"Tell me… no, show me what he said Harry."

"No Hermione."

"Harry, I have to know. Please? Would you rather I not know what he thinks? What did he say that has you feeling so protective? Don't I have the right to know? Don't I deserve that much from you?"

Harry fidgeted in his seat and pulled his hands through his hair. "You're not being fair Hermione. Don't believe for a second that I am falling for this 'poor me' act. You are manipulating me and we both know it. Draco asked that I not tell anyone else but we discussed nothing about showing it to you. I have to warn you, you may not like what you see, but it may be the dose of reality you need to jar you out of this recklessness. You aren't pregnant yet, you could still walk away from this intact."

Harry went to the door and told Liberella to hold owls for half hour, and to only knock in case of an emergency. Since they were here at work two hours prior to the official start of the work-day, Hermione couldn't imagine an interruption, nor did she feel too guilty about taking him away from work. Work took enough time away from their personal lives, she rationalized.

Harry presumably locked the door and then carefully lifted the pensieve to place it on the desk between them. The frown between his brows indicated he was concentrating, then he pulled out a silver-wisp whirling memory with his wand. He added it to the misty bowl and gently pushed the pensieve towards Hermione. The last thing Hermione noticed before submerging her face into the bowl was the expression in Harry's emerald eyes. Sympathy.

Hermione gently landed into a dark, drab out-house, Harry' broom shed out in his yard, she quickly garnered. Though she didn't feel the nip, she could detect its presence in her surroundings. Through the single window, she could see trees bare of their foliage, and dusk fighting the sun for control over the visible patch of sky. Why were they meeting here? Why not in the house? She saw Harry and Draco talking in low voices on the far corner of the big room, right by where Harry stored the family brooms. She lost some words, though she did hear the word "pregnant". Harry's memory had started from the middle of the conversation, not the start. Hermione put aside her irritation to run towards the stiffly standing pair, huddled in their thick coats, arguing about something. The next part she caught quite clearly, Harry was loud in his antagonism.

"What the hell do you mean she could be pregnant? How could she be pregnant?"

"It isn't that hard to comprehend Potter. You've fathered two children of your own, or haven't you? See, there is the ovum…"

Harry interrupted Draco's sarcastic drawl. "And the sperm. Whose sperm Malfoy?"

Draco looked absolutely unaffected and replied with a tilt to his head and a possessive, "Mine."

Hermione felt a shiver go down her spine. Yes, his.

Harry, however, reacted a little differently. She saw him clench his fists and take a step forward. Hermione glanced towards Draco. He was measuring Harry's stance and though he looked unaffected, and stood rooted in exactly the same spot, his hand moved closer to his wand.

"Calm down, Potter. It was a choice between a stranger from an infertility clinic or me. After Lilliana, Granger decided she wanted a child of her own. You know how intractable she can be. She decided if no man could hold her interest, there was no reason to hold out to have a baby. Good call that, by the way, choosing her to be around at the hospital when Lilliana was born. Can't you see how wistful she gets around children? Are you so blind that you can't see that she wants a family of her own? Excellent way to rub it in. Couldn't have been more Slytherin if you tried."

Hermione gaped at Draco, as did Harry. She hoped Harry understood that Draco was just playing mind-games… that he was distracting Harry, putting him on the defensive so he would forget to be in the attack mode. She was almost sure that was Draco's ploy. She was taken aback that he, of all people, had noticed those things about her. She would have to be less transparent to him.

It seemed Harry caught on to Draco's intentions too, "Don't you dare make this about me Malfoy. Hermione was there because she wanted to be there, and we wouldn't have it any other way. What do you mean 'muggle fertility clinic'?"

Draco sighed, a show of emotion he rarely allowed himself. "She was determined to have a baby and she was going to approach a muggle fertility clinic for what do they call those wankers? Yes, sperm donor." He rolled his eyes heaven wards and Hermione cringed at his narrow-mindedness.

However, Harry didn't seem too enthusiastic about the idea either, "She what?"

"You heard me Potter. I tried to talk her out of it but she wouldn't listen. You know how mulish she gets once she makes up her mind about something. I told her to get your or Ron's contribution if she were so desperate but she refused, saying it would muddle the boundaries of your already unhealthy attachments."

"Oi!" Harry and the invisible Hermione both bristled but Draco continued before Harry could interrupt.

"Think about it Potter. What percentage of the muggle population ends up being magical. Honest opinion now. About two percent you think? Three? It cannot be more than five. Is that true?"

Harry nodded with obvious reluctance. Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest, suspecting where this conversation was heading and liking it less by the second.

"So you concede that pure muggle-born wizards and witches are a rarity, yes?" He waited for Harry to respond, and was satisfied with a shrug.

"So combine Hermione's brilliant, I acknowledge, but muggle-born genes with the genes of a muggle. What do you think the probability is that such a child would be sans magic?"

Hermione hadn't thought of that before. Yes, the statistics went against the child on this one. That didn't matter though, she would love her baby with all her heart. Magic or no magic. She was validated and touched to hear Harry protest, echoing her own sentiments.

"So what if her child doesn't have magic? Every one would love him or her, regardless. You may have a problem with muggles, but the rest of us aren't bigoted jerks."

"Potter, you really test my patience. No foresight, just an impetuous flailing of arms! It is not I who would have an objection to Hermione's muggle baby. It is Hermione who would've had a crisis of priorities. As a single parent, if she has a child in the wizarding world, with no acknowledged father, it would cause scandal enough. If the child were then also labeled a squib, _bigoted jerks_ would mercilessly harass the child. Hermione would be able to take the ignominy, but a little child should not be subject to the maltreatment it would habitually have to endure. Other children can be quite heartless, if you remember… Hermione would. If she took the ill treatment of elves so personally, you can assume she would take the mistreatment of her own flesh-and-blood rather more to heart. Uncompromising that she can be, she would probably leave the wizarding world forever, break contact from us all, just in case someone accidentally performed magic in front of her child making him feel inferior… or subjected him to undeserved disrespect. There would be no play dates with Lilliana, I can promise you that."

"So you offered your genes? How convenient! Was there no other man left in the wizarding world?"

"What would you have me do Potter? It isn't my fault that most wizards in our world can't keep up with her. Till she finds a man who can meet her high standards, let her live a little. She doesn't seem to be complaining right now."

Hermione looked aghast at Draco. He seemed so… blasé about this. Was this feigned disinterest a deliberate defence against the world, that she seemed to have recently vaulted, or was his nonchalance authentic? Apparently Harry was sure it was the latter because he looked more offended than she felt.

"Oh come on, Potter. I care for her, more than a sperm donor ever could. I am providing a set of genes that when combined with hers, has the potential to make a child who has infinite magical potential. I am ensuring a secure future for them both. Even if the baby were a squib, with the Malfoy name, no one would dare pose any nuisance. I would make sure of that." Draco's face was set with the steel of his conviction.

"You are providing the baby a name? So you will get married?" Harry looked relieved for a moment.

Hermione saw Draco hesitate the first time in the whole conversation. "Eh, no. A wedding is not being planned. As much as we respect each other and enjoy each other's company, I don't think either of us can commit to_ forever_. You know my life Harry, I cannot anticipate tomorrow, let alone the next decade. This is an arrangement of convenience. She wants to be a full-time mother and would like a good set of genes. I can offer a good set of genes and would like to be a part-time father. I would care for the child, but I cannot promise to be around unceasingly. I cannot promise I will be in a city or country for a month, let alone in a home with little children that projectile unmentionable semi-solids from various orifices. Also crying, I am not fond of the crying. Too loud, too shrill. Hermione understands all of this, she knows me and that makes this arrangement perfect. If it is any comfort to you, I'll make sure they are both well cared for."

Hermione was absorbing this last part with lead in her heart. She would have liked to hear more, but lamentably, the memory ended. She found herself swirling out of the ether and back on the desk, retrieving her face from the pensive. She carefully schooled her face. No sense letting Harry see how his memory had punched large gaping holes into her hopes that Draco had begun to invest himself emotionally in her that little bit more. He cared for her, yes. Enjoyed her company, yes. Would be happy to make a baby with her too. He didn't love her, no. She smiled resignedly to herself as she felt the ache in her chest. _More fool me._

When she felt ready to face him, she found Harry holding a quill over a set of papers, looking quietly at her. He kept the quill down and reached across the desk for her hand. "Mione, there's still time. Please get out of this mess before you get hurt. You'll find the right man for you. Just wait a little longer."

Hermione scoffed, she couldn't help it. "How long should I wait Harry? I've waited eight years. Draco is right you know, no one else keeps up. I like them as people all right enough, but they inspire no strong emotions. It's rather drab. Since you know all this, and have already guessed that I love him, tell me, why would I deny myself the chance to bear his child? I am not going to marry another man as a consolation prize, not unless I care enough. It wouldn't be fair to the man and it wouldn't be fair to our children. If I am not going to have a husband and I am not going to have the ideal family, but I can have half of that… I can have Draco's child, why wouldn't I? Why refuse myself the happiness that I can reach? Bird in hand and all that. Later, when I find the right man, if I find him, we can get together. Mr Right should not mind my child. If he does, he wouldn't be right for me, would he?"

Harry was not to be dissuaded this easily, "Hermione you are severely limiting yourself the options available, don't you see that? The number of eligible wizards who can keep up with you and want to take on Malfoy's child… this will not be a very high number."

"Then I'd better hurry and get my half of an ideal life while I can, shouldn't I? Who knows, otherwise I could end up alone AND childless." Hermione found she could grin, so she did.

Harry tried a different tact, "Mione, I don't understand how you could let him do this to you. He will hurt you. That is inevitable."

"Not being with him hurts more, Harry."

Harry shook his head and tried another avenue, his last, "Hermione, there is huge potential for regret here."

Hermione looked up at her oldest best friend sadly and asked, "Harry, could you regret James or Lilliana?"

Harry looked surprised and then defeated. No, she didn't think he could.

The hand that she had forgotten tightened its hold on hers.

"Hermione, you can't convince me that Malfoy can be in anyway healthy for you. However, you are the smartest witch I know. You must see something in him that he doesn't reveal to the rest of us. That said, I know I am an interfering brute sometimes. You're the closes thing I have to a sister and I just feel like I need to look out for you as you have always looked out for me. Don't hold it against me?"

Hermione felt her heart melting for him. Yes, she had expected and resented, just a little, the inquisition into her personal choices. She understood where he came from, how could she not love him for being protective about her? Lord knew she had been interfering and bossy enough with him throughout school. The reciprocity was touching, really.

She got up and Harry looked surprised, regret marring his face. She realized he's misunderstood her gesture and went over to hug him.

"Harry, how could I begrudge your right over me as my best friend. It's not like you haven't earned it. Do you remember when I reported to McGonagal the broom Sirius sent you anonymously?"

They both grinned, and the angst was gone, just like that. They were fine.

"What did you tell Shaklebolt and Robards then? Were they surprised that you wanted me uninvolved in the Australian business?" She went to the window in his office and saw the fake sunlight and street scene that was projected on the outside of this underground office. Only the top officials had this luxury, Hermione's office had a fake view of the river Charles.

"I convinced them that there was a chance of reprisal from the vamps and I wanted you here to safeguard British security in our absence. They agreed immediately." Harry shrugged. He really was more Slytherin than most people realized.

"Harry, you remember how I was in school about studies, yes?"

Harry nodded and Hermione continued, "That is exactly how I am regarding my work now. What you did, though out of good intentions, is an intervention I do not appreciate. It is like stealing my chance at an 'O' in class. You should have known better than to listen to Draco, and you should have approached me. The next time he comes to you with another idea like this, I need you to tell me about it. Immediately."

Harry nodded and then grinned.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"What I would give to be a fly on the wall when you have this talk with Draco."

Hermione grinned back. Yes, she should have a talk with Draco. She'd have to put some thought into it. Maybe she would wait on it for a while, see if he told her himself. She left Harry's office lost in her thoughts. If only it were as easy with Draco as it had been with Harry.

Feeling up to sharing neither space nor time with him just yet, Hermione sent Draco an owl.

_Going to see my parents this weekend. See you next week._

They hadn't made any plans for this weekend but he did show up unannounced sometimes. Hermione wanted to erect some defenses that had withered under Draco's displays of affection in the past two months. She needed to set up a tower. Brick by brick. Unapproachable. Unbreakable. Untouchable. She needed to be less affected by the truth that she had so easily forgotten in the nights she'd spent in his possessive embrace. This was just an arrangement of convenience. Draco Malfoy did not love her.

She sent an owl to her mother, asking them their plans and wondering if she could drop by. She received an ecstatic response that while relieving her, also left her feeling a little guilty. She had hardly spent time with her parents since New Year's. This was a good plan then.

Hermione spent an uncomplicated weekend with her highly affectionate and practical parents. No drama here. She was grateful. Her mother seemed to look at her with concern when she slipped into moments of reverie, so Hermione chastised herself for her lapse of control. She had discovered nothing in that conversation with Harry that she didn't already know, except that Draco poked his pointed nose into her professional life more than she cared for. Draco had just created such a beautiful illusion for her that till she took a step back, she forgot it was a dream world, not based as much in reality as it was in her head.

But her head was the place that mattered, she decided. It didn't matter that Draco didn't love her.

He acted as if he did.

In his own Slytherin way, he cared.

He wanted her.

It was more than she had had two months ago.

She reminded herself of the wonderful times they had shared since and couldn't bring herself to regret a moment. So she decided she wouldn't focus on the negatives, but would enjoy the thrill of the positives. She would take what life and Draco threw her way, and she'd come out on top.

Hermione liked being on top. Draco liked that too.

Thus recharged with the love that her parents candidly demonstrated and re-energized with the optimism of tomorrow, Hermione Granger returned to her life on Monday morning. That night Draco dropped by and complained about her being gone so long. It was good to be missed. His child-like pout looked quite succulent and Hermione leaned over to kiss his pink heavenly lips. She hadn't forgotten about his interference though, and brought it up, "I had a very interesting conversation with Harry."

Draco's carefree shrug could not conceal the momentary flash of awareness in his eyes. "Good for you, he usually bores me stiff. Unless, he gets into his self- flagellating rants, then it's entertaining to add to his list of shortcomings. It comes all too rarely now. I miss the good old days when he blamed himself for all that was wrong under the sun."

Hermione got up from the love seat where she had been sitting next to him and went and sat on the armchair across the room. Very calmly, so as not to sound like a hormonal banshee, she spoke firmly, "How could you presume to meddle with my work Draco? How could YOU tell Harry when you had expressly told me not to let anyone know? You've embarrassed me in both my professional and my personal lives. This is not acceptable."

"Can Potter keep anything in that queasy stomach of his or does he always have to run to Mommy?"

"Malfoy." Hermione warned.

"What? So I wanted to keep you safe. I told you that I would take care of our baby. There was no way I was going to let you get involved in that sting when you could be pregnant."

Hermione softened a little, "If you felt this way, you should have talked to me about this."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Which would have accomplished what, exactly? Had I asked you to back out, would you have? Granger, you would have been the first one on the scene, ready to take on as many vampires as you could while wanting to coach the new aurors-in-training, while wanting to keep all the vampires safe. Tell me, is that hyperbole?"

"No, that is all true. However, that is no excuse to go meddling in my work. I did not ask you to not play Quidditch in Australia."

"If I were the one carrying our child, I would allow you that liberty. Since I am not, the point's inapplicable." Draco took off his shoes and turned sideways on the love seat to rest his feet up on the armrest.

Hermione didn't feel as relaxed. She was beginning to get irritated. "Draco, this behaviour is intolerable. You do not have any rights over me, as I do not over you. You will not interfere with my work again." This tone had always worked well with Ron.

Draco just looked as if a little puppy was tugging at his feet. Unaffected, if mildly amused and cross. "Granger, understand this, I will do everything I have to, to keep my future child safe. If you are agreeable, that will be convenient. If not, I will find a way around it. There will be no, and I mean NO compromises on your safety till the time we have our agreement. If within the year we don't get pregnant, and decide to part ways, then you can resume your life as before. Till then, and in case we do have a child, then till the time the child is old enough to take care of itself, your safety is my responsibility. It makes no difference whatsoever that it is undesirable for you."

"What do you mean till he is old enough to take care of himself? How old is that?"

"Till he graduates from Hogwarts sounds about right."

Hermione sputtered in disbelief, "What? You are insane."

"So you'd rather that you get blown up in a squabble, and the child grow up under MY care? Are _you_ insane? Don't you have any protective instincts? Can you fathom the emotional scarring inflicted on our child in that situation?"

Hermione snorted, she couldn't help it. He had a point. Besides, she liked this protective side of him. It nourished a part of her soul.

Before she could continue her argument though, Draco strode across the room and picked her up easily. "So, are you pregnant or do you need some help?"

One thing led to another, and Hermione conceded defeat in this battle. She'd pick a bigger one. For now, her bliss was back. Draco brought it to her, she couldn't help it, he just made her inexplicably happy with his little quips and pats and nudges. Hermione had discovered, that once comfortable, Draco was a very physically affectionate creature. He touched her hands, her hair, her neck, her face… when he wasn't touching her lips, her mounds, her valleys. He liked being touched too. He'd sit in front of her, his back to her and place her hands on his shoulder to indirectly ask for a massage. Or he would lay his head in her lap as they watched T.V. Sometimes, lying like that, he'd pull her hand into his scalp, which she would then stroke. Often, he'd play with the hem of her skirt, which would start rising slowly and surely. He would play havoc on her knees, legs and thighs for the hour or so that the T.V. program went on. The shift in his energies would make the electric lamps of the room flicker. His hands and lips would tease her sensitive mercilessly till she groaned and then he would tell her to be quiet, to let him watch the movie in peace. His hands would continue their glorious tortures. This had become their little game. She had bought 7 new skirts to play.

Yes, Draco Malfoy liked touching Hermione Granger. And that made her happy, which probably skewed time. The month passed before she realized it was gone.

Draco's quidditch tour was ending. He was coming back tonight.

Tick away body clock, tick away. Your time is up.

~0~

Please review.


	25. You Did What?

This chapter dedicated to one seriously amazing lady, my beta, Dixie_Charmer. _D, it was awesome chatting with ya. Thanks for all you do and who you are!_

Instead of giving you one insanely long chapter today, I'm going to give you **three **reasonable-sized chapters **over the next three days**. Why, you ask? I believe it would be more effective story telling to stop the chapters where I do. You know how TV serials leave you at a place where you can't wait for next week's episode? I'm hoping to achieve that effect - also where I got the idea. So, today is the teaser trailer. If you want to review all the chapters, to let me know how much you hate me for leaving them there, well I'll just love you, won't I ;)?

My sincere thanks to the following recent reviewers, who make me want to continue with this story: Frozen Darkness, ebbe 04, Li0n3ss, nathy7, The Dark Mistress Blue, prgirly, Fantasy Trickster, ClaireBear xo, peaceloveberries, tfobmv18, Xx-Twilght-lover-xX, karexdarkxkiss, xCailinNollaigx, mentarisenja, Sarjhi, loonyluna423 and eaw4707

A request for Super Girl Straight from Hell- Babe you officially rock, thanks for the details on the Ozzie Wizarding School. Can you please enable PMs or emailing from your profile on fanfic? I don't know how to get in touch with you otherwise. I can only reply to your reviews… can't even reply to your PMs :(

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Last time on Heir brained:

Draco's quidditch tour was ending. He was coming back tonight.

Tick away body clock, tick away. Your time is up.

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**YOU DID WHAT?**

Except that… when exactly would it be up, again?

Hermione had looked up various parenting websites and followed all the recommendations from the book _How to Make a Healthy Magical Baby_. The author, Jean Pool ought to know, she had ten kids from 3 marriages (she had outlived her first two husbands but was happily settled with the last one in Ireland)!

Even though her interludes with Draco had been few and far between, due to his Quidditch tour, Hermione was certain this was _the_ month. She purchased a pregnancy test that claimed to show results 5 days in advance. She tried it on day –5, day –4 and day –3. Waking up, the first thing she did in her day was pee on a stick. Three agonising minutes later, she gave herself the consolation speech that for a significant percentage of women, the results revealed a positive sign a few days later. So she went and bought another test and, yes, peed on a stick on day –2 and –1 as well. The next morning, she realised she didn't need to throw any more money down the drain. Despondently, she went to buy the sanitary supplies that she had been sure she wouldn't need for the next nine months.

Hermione and Draco had been 'together', 'doing the deed', exchanging bodily fluids'… one gets the drift… for a good three months now and Hermione was more than a little disappointed. The thing of it is that Hermione Granger was used to getting it right in the first attempt. Or worst-case scenario, the second attempt. Three months and she still wasn't pregnant. It made no sense whatsoever. Not to her determined mind. She scheduled an appointment with a women's healer for Friday evening.

Though she was not surprised to see the healer wearing a fuchsia coloured robe and yellow daisy-shaped spectacles, she was surprised to see the radish dangling earrings. There were more of these earrings out there? People other than Luna bought them? More importantly though, the healer seemed to be quite knowledgeable and ran a barrage of tests and spells. Healer Tara then pronounced that all was well with Hermione's reproductive system, thank you very much. Tara was probably observant enough to notice the war hero's unchanged maiden name and the lack of a wedding ring, but was thankfully discrete enough to mention neither. The healer also refrained from asking about the partner in attempt-to-conceive. She did, however, ask Hermione how long they'd been trying.

"Three months!!!" was Hermione's frustrated answer.

To Hermione's chagrin, Tara smiled indulgently. "Do not worry Miss Granger, three months is not a long duration. It can take up to a year for completely healthy couples to conceive. Here, this is a fertility almanac. I've customized it as per your lunar cycle so it will tell you the most appropriate times for you to engage in procreating activities. In a few months, if you don't succeed, perhaps your partner would like to come in for a check-up too, just to be certain, and to hasten the process if necessary. Here is the pre-natal potion that you should take twice a day. How is your diet these days? Are you having enough carrots?"

~0~

Draco had returned from his tour last night, but had let her know that he had administrative duties to attend to, so he wouldn't be able to visit. She hadn't met him for a week, so she was disappointed, but he'd said that once his work was done, he'd be able to spend the weekend with her in relative peace. The next afternoon, Draco came over to Hermione's flat for an elaborate Saturday lunch. It was a gorgeous April day and the spring sun shone through her tall windows, bathing her duplex and her beloved in a golden glow. Every time she saw him after a long break, her heart skipped a few beats. How could she have forgotten that he looked this heart-_breakingly_ beautiful? He stole her breath away with that long awaited kiss. She had to remind herself to feed him first. She'd have been happy to hit him over the head and carry him over to her cave. _No, feed him first._

The meal started with a unique carrot and walnut salad, accompanied by a savoury carrot soup that Draco seemed to enjoy tremendously. It proceeded with a ham mirepoix au gras, braised in a stew of celery and onion. Hermione carefully omitted to mention other ingredients when he flatteringly asked her for the recipe. Since Draco was part French, she knew that he knew it had carrots. He looked genuinely baffled by the time she brought out the dessert, a carrot soufflé.

"Oi, Granger, what's with the β-carotene? Are you trying to give me hypercarotenemia? It will not be a good colour on me you know." He shook his head sagely, "If you insist on putting some pigment on me at least go for the bronzer variety, right? I am _so_ much more believable as Adonis than a flamingo."

So Hermione did what she thought a girl would do. She laughed. Then she sat down and cried. Not a good cry, the objective observer would record, no wails, sobs or jerking shoulders. Just some dignified sniffling and hastily brushed tears, as she explained to Draco the source of her frustration and what healer Tara had recommended: Prenatal potion, healthy diet, no stress, charting her monthlies and carrots.

As soon as she had sat down and the first tear had appeared, Draco had rushed to her side, holding her close, his fingers gently stroking a soothing pattern through her hair. She couldn't see his face and he didn't coo comforting rhetoric, but his nearness and his caress soothed her.

"… but it could have something to do with the radish earrings that dangled from her ears. Maybe she is partial to roots?"

Draco spoke for the first time in a while, though it wasn't very clear. "Eh, it may be because of the phhssast mffdm."

"What Draco? I didn't quite catch that" Hermione wiped away the running mascara with his handkerchief and turned to look expectantly up to his sharply chiselled face.

"The orashedif jarmph?"

"Draco, tell me you didn't say what I thought you just said." She shook her head as if to clear her ears, "No you couldn't have. Now please, in a language I can understand. Clearly and slowly."

Draco didn't say anything, just shrugged guiltily like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He must know he looked adorable; there was no way he'd allow himself to appear that vulnerable by accident.

"Let me get this straight Draco Supercilious Malfoy. We have been shagging literally like rabbits for the past few months. In my mind, it is an attempt to procreate, to provide you with your heir and me with a baby I can call mine. All this while, you deemed it acceptable, unbeknown to me, to put on your deranged self, a contraceptive charm? A CONTRACEPTIVE CHARM?!"

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Remember to tune in tomorrow, same time, same place! Oh, and how much do you hate Draco? And, how much do you hate me? _(Evil laughter echoes through the empty hall)_


	26. Mercury Rising

Sorry a little later than yesterday… but longer.

**Thank You!!! To the AMMMMMAZING reviewers (so far), who made me grin, think, laugh and duck under the bed ;) You all SO made this cliffie-TV-serial attempt worth it! Muah muah muah!!! (no really, not faking it!) ****ladydraco79, ****Italian Rose****, ****Fantasy Trickster****, ****nathy7****, LizzieElena, ****margaritama****, ****bcain17****, ****spikeecat****, ****tfobmv18****, jillianunleashed, GreenEyedVixen, ****Jaynie****, ****Frozen Darkness****, ****DaOnLeeSam****, ****Li0n3ss****, Taruna, ****caseyjarryn****, ****karexdarkxkiss****, ****ginnylovesharry07****, avonstar, ****xCailinNollaigx****, ****blueskyshymoon08**

**ld- I've never laughed so hard over being told I suck!**

AN: I vary in descriptions for Draco's ever-changing eyes. It is fascinating how Grey eyes change hues with mood, energy level, time of day etc. Though I've come up with most descriptions myself or with Dixie_Charmers creative help, there was one not thought up by me. "Full moon over water eyes" is the way Elisha describes Draco's eyes in her fiction "A Secret Thought". I regret I didn't remember to give due credit before. I'm amazed no one's called me out on it yet. If you haven't yet read the story, it is an intense D/HR over at hpff in their 'best of hpff' section**.**

**Dixie Rox**

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**Mercury Rising**

ARE YOU STARK RAVING MAD??? WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME?? WHEN WERE YOU PLANNING ON REMOVING THE RUDDY CHARM?? WHEN?!"

Carried by the storm of her tirade, Hermione thrust herself closer and closer to Draco's face, poking him at the end of every forcefully expressed question. Poking hard enough to make him stagger backwards, with not as much the force of her push, as the fear of her wrath.

_There will be some well-deserved bruises on the insipid skin tomorrow. Exceedingly well deserved._

Somewhere along the many years of womanising, Draco had acquired an arsenal of vocabulary that apparently rendered women smitten. He obviously thought fit to employ the lot of it now. With a sheepish grin she had never considered him capable of, he launched into an explanation with the intent to mollify her, "Baby, I wanted to spend some _time _with you, just _you,_ without you running to the loo to throw up every meal. I wanted us to spend _quality _time together, to _bond_ before the baby arrived, make some decent _memories_."

He hadn't considered that his tactics were effective for normal women. Hermione was not normal. _Merlin, no!_ This wolf in sheep's clothing was NOT going to pull wool over her eyes with this innocent facade.

She gave him a deathly glare and pointed to her door, indicating it was time he left.

"Baby, listen to me…" he tried to hold her by the shoulders but she swatted his hands away.

"Baby? BABY?! Don't you dare 'baby' me Draco Bloody Malfoy! I am nine months elder to you and you are definitely the immature lout in this relationship. How DARE you deceive me like this! I thought you had changed, that you weren't a manipulative git anymore. When will I learn! You will never change your stripes OR your scales!"

"Granger, calm down." In the blink of an eye, Draco had changed. His mercurial moods now settling upon a composed, detached persona. His barrier of choice. Gone was the cocky-irresistible-teenager. Back was the inapproachable adult, patiently putting a wayward child in place. Slate grey eyes. Icy and hard.

It hurt. He didn't have the right to do this to her. To pull a stunt like this and then act as if she was the immature child. With just one look he'd reduced her to feeling that way. It just wasn't fair!

Before she could embark on another torrent of remonstrations, he spoke, "When we commenced our arrangement at New Years, how much did you know me? How well did you really know me? Have we or have we not benefited from the time together?"

Hermione had to grant him that much; she had thought she knew Draco after 7 ½ years. The past three months however, had revealed a side of him she had never suspected before. A caring side, an indulging side, an infinitely sexy side. She had always known Draco could be charming when he wanted, but she had just recently learned to blossom under the magnificent warmth of his tenderness.

In the last few years she'd witnessed his strength and determination. In the past few months though, she'd discovered that this man was capable of gentler emotions. He certainly was capable of enticing emotions in her that she had never experienced before… sheer bliss, love, enchantment, ecstasy. Fear, but that was always temporary, and always when he left. Sometimes when he left, she felt paranoia that he wouldn't come back. He always did, though, and she was always grateful. Yes, she was appreciative that they had had these months together. That still didn't make his deception right.

"We have Draco, but…"

"… but I should have been upfront with you about wanting you to myself for a while, I shouldn't have omitted such an important fact." He looked down, apparently checking his buffed nails for lack of perfection.

"Err… yes that's right." He wanted her to himself. S_igh! Focus Hermione, focus!_

Draco continued "Worse still, even though I knew you weren't pregnant, I told Potter you might be. I purposely had you kept away from danger and that is purely unethical."

"Wait… you knew I wasn't pregnant, and you still misled Harry to keep me away from the vampire operation in Australia? Well, yes that is downright unethical!" So he cared about her, even though she wasn't pregnant with his child yet. Cared enough to admit to Harry that he was sleeping with her, which could have gotten Draco hexed six ways to Timbuktu!

"Oh, so Potter…"

This time Hermione stopped him with a warning in her eyes and a calmly raised finger, "Malfoy, don't try to distract me… you're walking on thin ice. You lied to him and manipulated me."

"C'mon Granger, you can't be surprised. I have never concealed that I am adept at both."

Flabbergasted, Hermione didn't know what to say. She didn't even know what to think.

"Draco, I can't keep up with you. Now, I need you to leave. I need time. Don't owl me, I'll owl you."

"Time for what? To over analyse a fairly simple piece of information to death? Granger, I wanted some time with you, so I took it. Don't act like the injured party. You weren't exactly anguished while suffering my company. So we had a few blithe moments before we embarked on a pregnancy together. It's almost certainly healthier for everyone involved, especially the baby. There is no cause to brood."

"Malfoy, I trusted you!" Hermione protested in anger.

"Hermione, I haven't betrayed your trust in anyway. I just withheld a fact, and, err, my sperms. I did not deliberately employ the charm, it was already in place. I just chose to leave it on for a few more months so you and I could enjoy each other. I could have excused myself by claiming I forgot to remove the contraceptive charm, but notice, I am not lying to you." He came forward, held her hand and led them to the love-seat in her living room.

Despite his justification, Hermione did feel betrayed. They had had a deal. Why had she trusted Draco? That never amounted to any good for her heart. Did he not want a baby with her? Had he just wanted to sleep with her? Why go through the trouble then? He could have had her if he'd just showed any interest, something Hermione was afraid that Draco knew all too well.

"This withholding of information affects me more than it affects you, it was unscrupulous of you to be this… this Machiavellian. This will not do!"

"Hermione, do you share every distinct thought process me? How can you expect me to share every reflection with you? We have our separate sacrosanct entities that are not to be desecrated. This is not a marriage, we will always have secrets from each other. Leave it at that."

He must have noticed the grimace of pain she tried to hide, for his tone softened just a smidge as he continued, "Mi, I am being honest now, aren't I? If I intended to conceal this detail, and had I just reversed the charm now, trust me, you would have remained unsuspecting. You know now, because I wanted to reveal it. Please don't make me regret this attempt at honesty. Don't make a bigger deal of it than it has to be. You are too practical to do that. Why can't you see it for the compliment it is? Women beg me to spend time with them but I wanted to spend it with you!"

Draco put his hand up to her face to tuck some hair behind her ear. An act she usually cherished, this time Hermione slowly deflected his hand away from her face.

This seemed to anger Draco, "You know what Granger, if anything, you should be perturbed over why I told you now. Why am I ready to impregnate you now? If you want to obsess over a thought, let me give you a new one to obsess over- am I tired of you?"

Having said that, Draco walked to her door and slammed it on his way out. _Drama Queen!_ Hermione knew he did it only to make a grand exit. He usually just apparated out quietly, well with a soft _pop_.

Still reeling from his parting shot, Hermione went about robotically cleaning up after the meal.

Fat lot of good the carrots had done!

~0~

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**Many of you were very, VERY accurate about Draco's reasons for the charm. Some brilliant minds even intuted it would be so. hmm, so what happens next? Guesses?**


	27. Seekers Keepers

Dixie Rox!

Kudos to Margaritama for guessing the end of this chappie! Kudos to avonstor for guessing it part right… but no sweets, not nearing the _fin_.

My heartfelt gratitude to everyone who got on this ride with me, and wrote to let me know that they were enjoying the spin. Your reviews do more for me than my story could do for you... **I bring you an escape, you bring me joy.**

In order of reviewing: Fantasy Trickster, tfobmv18, blueskyshymoon08, LizzieElena, ginnylovesharry07, Italian Rose. karexdarkxkiss, caseyjarryn, avonstar, Lady-Draco79, Jaynie, Swimming-Gal, Gabby, margaritama, peaceloveberries and nathy7. MW, thank you for your corrections for ch 24! xCailinNollaigx and Lion3ss, I know you will review when you read, as you fantabulously do for each chapter, so thank you in advance!

**Hermione's thoughts right below are directly derived from YOUR reviews for the last chapter! I tried to take something from every proclamation of hate for Draco ;) For those too kind to partake in some man-bashing, I went through every review to incorporate _some _thing, even if it was just an expression, word, idea, thought or general atmosphere/feel. Enjoy! (hopefully!)**

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**Seekers Keepers**

_Is he tired of me?_

Later that evening, still stewing over the audacity of the man, Hermione tried to elude the flood of resentment and melancholy that wanted to assail her. It came though, it came.

_I should dye his hair a horrible multicolor neon… hex it so it takes weeks to rinse out!_

_Draco sucks! Men suck!_

"_I should have been upfront with you about wanting you to myself..." Sweet that Draco wanted to spend more time with me and wanted to protect me from the Vampire mission, but that it is trumped by his manipulation of the situation. I'm pretty sure if it had been the other way around, Draco would have punished first and asked questions later. _

_He shouldn't have lied, no matter how sweet his reasoning was, he shouldn't have lied._

_And what was that harsh parting shot? He isn't really sick of me, is he? But if he was tired of me, would he have been honest now? Was he being honest now? He did say he was adept at lying and manipulating. Blah!_

_Why ever didn't the healer pick up on the contraceptive charm? Oh, that was on him, not me. Oh yes, it was on him, Malfoy, you… you… cruel bas….!_

_Oi, I almost abused! I do not partake in that indulgence. Usually. But a cockroach is a cockroach. _

_Well, he was, in his __wry and strange Draco way __quasi...thoughtful? _

_Maybe his reason for keeping the charm was good enough and I am blowing things out of proportion?_

_I may be a practical and reasonable, but I still have feelings! _

_Maybe I should call on Ginny? Some time in her soothing presence could do any woman's soul some good._

Amidst the cornucopia of fluctuating emotions, Hermione clung to one consolation; Draco had insensitively shun innumerable unsuspecting members of her gender with the indifferent "Don't owl me, I'll owl you". It would have been the first time in Draco Malfoy's mostly privileged life, that he was the intended audience of such dismissal.

In a twisted way, that probably explained his noisy apparition into her kitchen at 8 pm, demanding to be fed. Could he ever do something she expected?

"Draco, things are not fine. I haven't processed it all. I don't think I can talk to you right now."

Draco stared at her coldly and exclaimed a "Fine!" before apparating away.

Hermione adjusted the wards in her flat to block Draco's entry. Then she altered them to obstruct all apparition. She wasn't in the mood for any visitors, she discovered.

Hermione mulled over his presumptuous behaviour for a few more minutes. There was a knock on the door. She went to check through the peephole and was nigh surprised to see Draco again. What was with him?

She opened the door and stood there, mute and stoic.

The hand that came forward from behind his back revealed a colourful bunch of assorted flowers.

Hermione couldn't make the effort to reach forward to accept them.

He bore an expression like he was swallowing a particularly nasty flavour of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. He had looked like this when he had popped a 'stinky sox' from James' candy jar.

"I, uh, I'm sorry I can't help being a wanker. I'll try to be less of one from now on. Let me stay? All this fighting, it just reminds me of our make up sex in the study, and I get all horny."

Then he smiled his diamond smile. The one that she felt like she had worked months to be rewarded with. She could resist neither the mischief in his eyes, nor the two peace offerings: the first time he brought her flowers and the first ever apology she had heard pass through his lips. So, yes, pathetic romantic that she was, she let him in. Then she realized her mistake and decided to say something severe. By Merlin, she would NOT be this easy!

"Don't even think about spending the night here Draco Malfoy. This is an opportunity to dissuade me from barring your presence from my home forever. Make good use of your one chance at redemption."

Draco looked down at the flowers in his hand, then threw them on the side table. "At least they got me in through the door."

He sat down on her love seat and closed his eyes for a few seconds as if steeling himself for something. Then he opened them, looking resigned.

"It's my mother."

Hermione gaped at him, "Your mother? She told you to cast a contraceptive charm and not make a baby with me?"

Draco looked surprised for a second, "What? Morgana, no! She can't wait for us to provide her a grandchild. She has already started planning the décor for the nursery at the Manor for when the baby comes to stay. It's just that I knew what happened to her when she was pregnant and I wanted to avoid that for a bit."

Hermione went and sat down next to him. "What happened? Something bad happened to the baby and you are adopted? You really are the spawn of the devil?"

Draco gave her a cold glare before continuing, "Hermione, I'm rubbing off on you and you don't even know it. The Malfoy and Black traits are too prominent in my genetic make-up for me to ever doubt my birth. No, it's that my parents, they fell in love, waited to get married before you know, but despite the contraceptive charm, somehow mother got pregnant probably right on the wedding night."

Draco shuddered before continuing, "I was born exactly 9 months later. If the topic ever came up after a few glasses of firewhiskey, father has been known to boast that Malfoy sperms make brilliant seekers. Mother says I challenged her right from then. First month on, mother had severe morning sickness, which lasted throughout the pregnancy. She had other health complications and in the last three months she was confined to her room for bed-rest. She wasn't working and even at home, she didn't have to lift a finger as the elves did it all. Still, she had all these complications that had her almost on her deathbed during labour. This made her first year of marriage more stressful than it ought have been. My parents have never said it, but I know they would have liked some time to themselves before the complications of having a baby bombarded their lives. Once I was born, they were focussed entirely on me. I don't think they got much time to themselves, and I know that now, my mother regrets that more than she lets on."

"Oh Merlin, really?" Hermione felt genuinely bad for Mrs Malfoy as Draco looked into her eyes earnestly for a few seconds.

He sighed, shook his head and continued, "No, I made up the death-bed part, but it was worth a try."

When she punched him in the shoulder, he looked affronted, "What? It could have happened like this! Well, all right, she wasn't sick for the whole pregnancy, but I really was born nine months later and Father did say that Malfoys make excellent swimmers. Truth be told, I did not want to have you pregnant and throwing up on my clothes the day after we got together. Hermione, we've been through so much, waited so long to be together, do you honestly regret the time you have spent with me? Father wasn't joking, us Malfoys, we are historically, shall we say, virile. Almost all first-born Malfoys arrive within the first year of marriage. I wanted us to have some time to ourselves, get comfortable in each others homes and skins before you got pregnant, just in case there were health complications. If there are complications, I don't want you to have to go through it alone." At that he took her hand and she let him.

"Mi, you know if there's any health concern, I am going to ask you to quit your jobs for a while. Probably have you move in with me at the Manor, so we can take care of things for you. For that, it was essential that we bonded first. Can you please understand that I just wanted to have a relationship with you before you became the future mother of my child?"

His dark-magic eyes held hers till she was afraid she'd be hypnotized. Maybe he was trying to entrance her into agreeing?

She shook her head. _Even he wouldn't stoop this low. Would he? _

"I think I can try to understand. And no, I do not regret the time spent together, so far. As long as I don't find later from your mother that you were born a decade after she got married!"

Draco smirked, "No danger of that, I've already briefed her, she's going to maintain my version."

Hermione smacked him behind his head. "Really, Draco, we have to work on your communication. You should have just told me what you wanted from the start. Please understand, you do not have to take things from me, as you have had to from others. You can ask me, or just tell me! In most cases I would be happy to do as you please, if your demand is reasonable. You should not just assume I would say no."

"And if you do say no? Can I go behind your back to do as I please?" Draco's infamous smirk announced it annoying arrival.

Hermione replied calmly, "What do you think? Is that the kind of relationship you want with me? The two of us going behind each others backs… wouldn't you rather we confronted each other with things? It's not like we are wary of arguing, we do it all the time and it does not seem to detract from our relationship."

Hermione felt something akin to awe. It had just dawned on her that she was in a _relationship _with Draco, a _relationship _that he had initiated and covertly continued. Hmmm… this had implications. Maybe she would forgive him after all?

Draco nodded, resting his head on the sofa and bringing his hand forward to tuck her hair behind her right ear. This time she didn't shun his touch, and he smiled at her as he continued, "You are right, if anything, our explosiveness makes our interaction more entertaining. I do believe that if we both agreed on everything, we would have bored each other silly by now."

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder. She had missed him. She didn't like fighting with him, it got too angsty. Hermione abhorred angst. "I don't know about that Draco. I could use some boring days with you, if it means I could have some peace. All this drama, it can be too eventful. Just please promise to not be too controversial for a while all right? And please TRY to be honest. I promise it won't kill you."

Draco grinned, "You'd be surprised. All right, all right, I promise I'll be as honest with you as I possibly can be. I cannot guarantee I will have no secrets from you because I can't divulge details about work. If something concerns you, I will try to be as open as I am capable. Is that good enough?"

Hermione smiled back gently, "It will do for now. Now what do you want for dinner? I have some carrot lasagna."

Draco picked up a cushion from the sofa and smothered his face with it, not attempting in the least to stifle his loud groan.

She gave him a hard time but she did eventually let him sleep with her that night. He was too irresistible, his dark eyes too mesmerizing, his moonlit hair too gorgeous and his smile too rakish. Besides, they had lost time to make up for.

~0~

Make up for lost time, they did. It helped that Draco was not touring for a while. Quidditch practice and Malfoy business still kept him busy in the days, but the nights and weekends were hers. How the month flew by, she didn't comprehend. Usually on weekdays, he spent the night at her place. Sometimes on weekends, he asked her over to his wing at the Manor. They had a lazy breakfast there, supplied by the every affectionate Misty, who seemed thrilled to have Hermione around.

One such weekend morning near the end of April, Hermione was reading the newspaper when Misty brought in their morning tea and set it on the bedside table. Misty looked at Hermione funny for a bit, making Hermione check for her reflection in the shiny surface of the silver tea tray. Was there something wrong with her face? Was her hair frizzier than ever?

Misty's huge lips parted to show a set of uneven but very white teeth and she started jumping up and down, clapping her hands together in glee.

Draco peeked from behind the financial section to look wryly at the enthusiastic house elf. "What's got your tea towel in a twist Misty?"

Misty gave her huge toothy grin and looked at Draco, "Master offered Misty these pretty uniforms. Misty not wear tea towels anymore. Master, Misty excited, Misty play with Master's baby!"

Hermione probably had whiplash due to the speed at which she turned her head from Misty to Draco. _Baby?_

Draco didn't react at all. He looked exactly as he had a moment ago. It was as if he were stunned.

Hermione turned to Misty again, "What do you mean Misty? What baby?"

Misty's wiggling ears lost some of their height as she looked confused and her eyes filled with panic. "Miss and Master not know? Miss Hermione is carrying Master Draco's baby. Misty can tell about Malfoy blood. House elves sense baby magic. I not know Miss and Master not know…" she looked unsure as to how the news would be received and out of habit seemed to be looking for a way to punish herself.

Misty looked relieved as Draco came forward and sat down next to Hermione on the bed. He held her hand and squeezed it for a moment before turning to Misty.

"That is excellent news Misty, thank you for telling us. If you would like, please partake in the butter beer in the cellar and add on two weeks to your three weeks of paid vacation." Misty jumped up and down but then looked a little confused, "Is Master angry at Misty? What will Misty do with herself for 5 weeks?"

Draco glanced sideways at the shocked Hermione as if to say "I told you so!" and then turned back at Misty, "All right, you may chose whatever you like as a reward. Think about it and let me know tomorrow. For now, you can be excused. Don't let anyone disturb us for a while."

As Misty blushed and started to head to the door, Draco called out "Misty, make sure to stay out of mother's way for a while. You can't let her or any one else know. That is very important."

Misty nodded vigorously and popped away.

As soon as the elf left, Draco's demeanour changed. He gently lay her back on the bed and lifted her night shirt up to bare her mid riff. He looked at it in wonder with his sun and sky eyes and planted a soft feather kiss over her womb. She sensed the change in his magical intensity as she felt goose bumps break out on her skin.

He kept his hand on her abdomen as he brought his lips up to hers, planting a fiercely possessive, happy kiss on her all too welcoming lips. He bore a goofy grin as he eased back to let them breathe, "I told you Malfoys make exceptional seekers."

~0~

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Yes, I know, I know, Hermione is a wimp, she takes him back. However, just like in real life, it would do my story no good if Hermione bore a grudge against Draco for everything he does wrong. There would only be a 'The End'… you know? Besides, I'm trying to think like a Virgo- more practical, sensible, calmer, averse to the melodramatic outbursts that us explosive types thrive on. So yeah, it's tough for me :) Hope I did it justice.

Cheers! ... uh, and please review?


	28. Hermione's Journal, May 4

Hello all, I know I was gone for ages. An out of town trip, visiting family and then visiting friends, and of course… life (Thank heavens for all of them!) Life is still keeping my beta busy, so this entry in **HERMIONE'S JOURNAL** is unedited. It's a teaser, I know. A longer chapter (with dialogues and scenes and all) will be up latest by… day after… if all goes well.

This chapter dedicated to my "**banner maker**" **Ginnylovesharry07 **who is without a doubt, a rock star. She has put in so much thought and effort into a purely selfless task. Please check out her amazing work – Ginnylovesharry07 's profile is on fanfic and a link to her amazing work on lj is also available on my profile.

A shout out to the lovely **evenstar101**, who left detailed reviews for **every **chapter! I am oober thrilled that someone with such considerable writing skills considered me worthy. Please check out her very promising fic 'Twisted Roots'. **Lady Draco**, thanks for spreading the word about this fic!!!

My infinite gratitude to all these reviewers for the last chapter: (in order of reviewing)

margaritama, Fantasy Trickster, Li0n3ss, ginnylovesharry07, Gabby, ebbe04, blueskyshymoon08, caseyjarryn, HarryPGinnyW4eva, peaceloveberries, loretta537, Italian Rose, tfobmv18, mamawitke, karexdarkxkiss, Frozen Darkness, Super-girl-straight-from-hell, anneodette, Lady-Draco79, Jaynie, Doodles Divine, Anti-Monarchist, jinxed123, evenstar101, EvryflvrLisha, De la vine, xCailinNollaigx, Irulan 24, nathy7, monopolyfreak10191019, lily, kavii, THE_PERFECT_DIAMOND_67, Lily, Molly Box, starzz

We have now reached 416 reviews, 105 faves and 202 alerts! Thanks to all of you!!!

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_May 4, 2006_

_I'm pregnant! I'm pregnant!!!_

_I wish there were a way to take a snapshot of NOW… how I FEEL right now._

_Our baby is in me. I'm having Draco's baby._

_How can I express it so words can capture how elated, thankful and blessed I feel? How protective, lucky, jubilant! _

_And he couldn't be any more brilliant to us, than he is right now. He is so tender that he makes it hard for me to remember that this isn't really love. In his way, in so many ways, it is. Our child is going to be loved so! Our child that is __in me__. __IN ME__!! The books say he'll just be the size of a small pea right now. But he has a heartbeat and is developing at a rate that is magical. There is no other word for it. Well, miraculous works to a degree, but it doesn't really convey the enchantment._

_We met the Healer and she says everything is progressing perfectly! (Touch Elder wood!) We're going to see the Doctor tomorrow. Yes, Doctor. Apparently when it comes to his child, the best of both worlds, wizarding and __muggle__, is not an objection with Draco. _

_I have never seen this side of him… it's as if till now, he didn't have anyone to care about to this extent, so he couldn't be bothered. Except his parents, he worried for them… especially while they were held captive all those years ago… though he never was the type to demonstrate any emotion. Still, it was evident to the careful observer that his energies, all his efforts and sacrifices, they were to obtain his family's release from Voldemort. Now, now he seems to care for us like that. Perhaps even more for the baby that anyone before? _

_That Draco has depth, I never doubted after 7__th__ year. Through the years a few of us have realised that just because he portrays himself as emotionally unavailable, doesn't mean he is emotionally deficient. It's just that people don't touch his heart easily. This pea-sized life has somehow managed to move a mountain it would never know of. Our baby shall never doubt that his father loves him, of that I am convinced. I see it in Draco every day. His eyes, his touch, his wistful expression when he talks of the baby to come. Draco will love our baby with all his might. He will support, comfort and protect his child the best he knows how. And spoil him rotten, I'll have to be careful about that! _

_He is impatient, that one. Now that I am pregnant, he can't wait to touch our baby's hair, to count the little toes and fingers, to see her eyes, to hear her breathe._

_He says he wants a daughter. I want a son. Is that a primordial instinct? I want to see our son grow up with Draco, learn from him to be the man Draco is today. I want to see Draco teach him Quidditch and admonish both of them for coming home with dirty clothes and huge grins. Draco could teach our daughter Quidditch, but little girls… ah, with little girls, you want to dress them up and do up their hair with satin ribbons and make them wear dainty sandals that pitter-patter on the floor as they run up to you. Boys, with boys somehow it seems fine to let them play in the mud, get a little mucky, have a frog for a pet. _

_Who knew that secretly, I was a sexist? Not a sexist, I'm sure. Just a trifle conservative in my views then?_

_I am sure girl or boy, we will love them more than we could imagine, treat them just the same, teach them the same values. Our son will not be a brat. He will not be a spoilt, apathetic snob. He will treat girls and everyone around him respectfully. Our daughter will not be a dainty darling or mindless gossip. She will be a well-read, active tomboy, like me, like the Weasleys. With all those boys around her, what else would she turn into? Either a tomboy or a femme fatale by the time she grows up. Oh, so that's another reason to want a boy! :)_

_Do I want a boy just a percent more than a girl, because a boy could be Draco's heir? This is __**NOT**__ about inheriting. I have enough financially to support our child and myself very comfortably. Then, is it about being Draco's firstborn to retain and continue his father's name? Will our child be a true Malfoy though? Our baby will have his father's name, but will the absence of marriage take away from that? _

_Whoa, Hermione, are you thinking this through? You WANT your child to be a true Malfoy? No, I want him to be Draco's Son. Draco is unfortunately stuck with that name. Maybe I can convince him to change it? What time is it? I'm usually a little more coherent. Back to the original inscrutability of it all - So then, since if it is not about the money and it isn't about the name, what is it? Why would I, infinitesimally I should add, long for a boy? Why does he want a girl?_

_Do we want miniature versions of the other? Do we see our own imperfections too clearly to voluntarily want a babe version of ourselves? Is the other more perfect to us? He is to me. With all his imperfections, with all his faults, with all his sins from a lifetime ago, I love him. I love him for who he is today. I love him for how he atoned for each ill directed deed, how he changed himself for the better with each day. For who he has been to me, who he has been __for__ me. For what he now is to the world - a strong, independent, dependable icon._

_When he came to us at Grimmauld place, he didn't have to help us. He did. Despite the danger he faced, from his friends, foes and allies._

_When we went to hunt for the horcruxes, he didn't have to come with us. Yet, he did. Probably because of the danger that we faced._

_During the battle, he didn't have to stand against everything he had been taught, everyone he had known. Still, he stood with us till the very last curse was repelled._

_After the battle, he didn't have to stay and help pick up the pieces. He could have left and continued with his previous life- one of privilege and leisure. He didn't wash his hands off us then. He stayed. _

_With his incisive mind, he helped us bring some semblance of order to the world. With his perfectionist ways, he helped straighten lines. With his wealth, he cleared obstacles. _

_He could have just sat back and said "I've done enough" but he didn't. _

_He started with small steps and bore it all so gracefully. He has mastered whatever he touched. Through the years, he has taken on so many roles… Quidditch, Malfoy industries, redeeming his family's name and helping me. An 18 year old should not have had that much on his shoulders. Now that I think about it, he has more on his plate than I do! No wonder he stays irritable :)_

_Is HE why I want a son? A blonde grey-eyed cherub that I can see HIM in everyday? So I can witness Draco's childhood somehow? The childhood that ought have been? I can not bring myself to believe he was unhappy in anyway. His parents loved him without doubt, but he could have been so much more. All the years of his friendship that we could have had in school but didn't. It's such a criminal shame. And yet, for things to turn out the way they did, how could I have any regrets? So I have none._

_Now we can have another chance. Now HE can have a chance to love without restraints, like he seems to want to learn to do. He's struggling with it. The awkward silence he lapses into after he's been too enthusiastic in talking about our baby. Does he think I'll think less of him because he lost his iron control for a few seconds? Doesn't he know, can't he see, that I live for those moments when he forgets to shut himself tight, up high in his tower? When he comes out to walk in the sun, for just a bit._

_How can I get to him? What can I do to make him come down and stay with us? How can I make him forget the need to go lock himself up alone? Ought I try? Haven't I tried already? Will he ever be happy away from that tower? Perhaps not. Is he really locked in a tower, or is he instead blissfully detached, flying from one adventure to the next on Mercury's winged sandals, in his Gemini ways, with us earth-bound mortals when out of sight, also out of his mind? Perhaps I'm fixated with him because he is that out-of reach idea, that elusive answer, that mystery I just couldn't solve. Perhaps that's really why I believe I love him._

_Highly impractical of me. Exceedingly unwise. Not steady nor judicious nor rooted at all. Earth fell for air… and is having the ride of her life!_

_Perhaps I'll find true love one day and look back at this and smile, with fond memories locked tight in a trunk? And a beautiful baby that is all my own. _

_A baby that I already love more than his father, and much, much more than his mother's life._

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I'd written the next chapter first, but for myriad reasons couldn't post it. Then I realised, I owed Hermione this insight into her thoughts. Please let me know what you thought. Much thanks for reading!


	29. New, yet not that Strange?

Unfortunately, Dixie_Charmer's computer has been a bad, bad boy, so the chapter is NOT BETAED. Thus, mistakes all mine. Pointing them out (so I can correct them) will earn you goodwill aplenty! Do it nicely though, you don't want to upset me do ya? _(Shakes her head grimly)_

Thanks to these ammmmazing recent reviewers who light up my life with each word: **Ren-san, margaritama, blueskyshymoon08, ****evenstar101****, ****nathy7****, ****tfobfmv18****, ****HarryPGinnyW4eva****, ****Irulan 24****, ****laNegrita****, lily. Li0n3ss and ****xCailinNollaigx****,** I know you will come and thank you for the assurance that you allow me to hold. **Always Sunny in Omashu/ tia **Thanks for your replies to my rant/ questions for chapter 17 :) Much appreciated.

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**Strange and New**

Hermione had thought she'd seen a tender side of Draco before, now though, she witnessed the evolution of a completely distinct human being. She could not have guessed in her wildest dreams how thoughtful and gentle the ruthless sovereign of the Malfoy dynasty could be.

That afternoon, flooing to her flat in a rush, they had confirmed her pregnancy with a muggle test. Draco had held her close to him for hours as they spoke of their plans. She wanted to make sure her baby had the best of both worlds- muggle technology and magic. Draco didn't raise an eyebrow. On Monday, Hermione called a muggle ObGyn and took an appointment with her as well as healer Tara, with whom she sought to fix an appointment at the healer's private clinic.

As soon as Draco walked into the private clinic, Tara grinned at Hermione, "I see the carrots worked then." The healer wasn't fazed that Draco made her sign a confidentiality agreement. She didn't seem awed that two of the principal celebrities in the magical world were her new patients. She just continued talking about how carrots had saved the day for many a couple. Draco rolled his eyes heavenward more than once but was silenced by Hermione's warning glares. The goofy grin made multiple appearances.

The muggle doctor, Dr Christina Wentworth, gave Hermione an ultrasound that Draco attended. Surrounded by large muggle contraptions, Draco held her hand and squeezed it tight, though that may have been more for his benefit than hers. He stood beside her as the doctor pointed out a mass of cells on the monitor, who was their blossoming child. Once his hesitation ebbed, he passed his now familiar infectious grin as the doctor told them that their baby was due around early January.

Over the next few days, there was no doubt left in Hermione's mind that Draco deeply cared for their child, and in his own Malfoy-way, for her as well. He was there when she got home from work, got the elves to make her fresh meals, helped Hermione clean her flat and do her laundry when she refused to let the elves do those chores for her. He pampered and cosseted Hermione like she had never been before. He fetched pillows and blankets and food and water… he wrote long parchments for her as she dictated notes for her column. He gave her shoulder rubs and gentle back rubs. If she stayed too late at work, he owled her to get her "arse home".

They started going for evening strolls in a muggle park close to Hermione's building. There they had long conversations about sometimes, nothing in particular, and sometimes, particulars that mattered much.

One such evening, they'd been walking in comfortable silence for a while when they saw a little boy standing alone, looking lost, with his little lip wobbling in a preamble for tears. Draco and Hermione scanned the area quickly for an attending adult, but finding no one they slowly approached the boy who couldn't have been more than seven years old. As the child craned his neck upwards to evaluate Draco's form, his fear seemed to grow with each towering inch.

"Hello there," Hermione knelt down next to the boy as Draco scowled at her, probably because he was wondering if kneeling was bad for their baby. "Where's your Mum big boy?"

The child looked a little relieved at Hermione's kindness, but sensibly, didn't seem to trust strangers immediately. "She's around, I just can't see her right now."

Draco looked at the boy with scepticism clear in his gunmetal eyes. "What's her name? We'll try hollering for her."

"Am… Amanda." The boy replied nervously.

Hermione shouted for the boy's mother a couple of times then started questioning the boy regarding where he had seen her last. Draco had deemed it a good time to rest on a bench with his eyes closed in apparent slumber. It was the little boy's turn to look at Draco with no little hint of sarcasm.

A few seconds later, Draco got up, as if bored of the entertainment and started walking towards the setting Sun, his black billowing cloak forming a striking contrast against the orange and magenta sky.

Hermione, who had tolerated his disinterest in finding the child's mother, couldn't help but voice her disbelief at this sign of abandonment. "Where, what? Draco!"

He looked back at her as he continued walking away. "Checking on something… I'll return in a moment."

Hermione stood by the little boy as she unrelentingly called out for the missing Amanda. The boy had finally warmed up enough to reveal his name, Peter.

It had barely been a minute or so when Hermione saw Draco head back their way with an anxious looking blonde woman by his side. The woman and boy ran towards each other. The boy jumped up into the woman's arm as she hugged him, sobbing in relief.

"Oh Thank God! Where did you go Peter? You were there on the swings one minute, I turned to talk to aunt Miranda for two seconds and you were gone! I've been going mad looking for you, haven't I! You almost gave me a heart attack, you did!"

"I'm sorry Mum, I saw a big squirrel and I started chasing it, but when I looked around I… I didn't know where I was."

"Don't you ever, EVER do that to me again, you hear? What would I have done if someone had taken you? Thank the Lord it was these nice people here that found you!" The emotional mother turned to them as she held her child tight to her chest.

"I can not thank you both enough. I am so sorry for the trouble."

"The next time, just keep your eyes on your son, yeah?" Draco admonished Amanda gently as she looked down guiltily and nodded her goodbye. Hermione waved at Peter who happily, now, waved his goodbye.

They resumed their walk. This time the silence was not comfortable. Hermione was nervous. There was no denying it. Having wanted a baby for years, now that she was pregnant, she began to fret over her own capability as a mother.

"What if I am a horrid mother?" she blurted out in a tone that belied her anxiety.

Draco took a hold of her hand as he guided her around a puddle in the path, "You will be the best mother in the world. Really, I won't be surprised if you enter a contest to prove it to yourself… and to the world, that you are the most dedicated and detailed mother to ever walk the realms of this earth. If anything, our baby might grow up feeling smothered by you, so I'm going to have to keep you in line. No, behind the line."

"What if the baby and I don't bond?" Hermione's eyes now scanned the path below carefully, examining each rock and pebble that marked her path. Askance, she could observe Draco examining her just as vigilantly, before he answered.

"Of course you and the baby will bond. The baby will love you… and me, more than anyone else in the world, just like we will love her. She will love me more though, be prepared for that."

Hermione smiled at that, and turned towards him, "So we're having a girl, are we?"

The now beloved smirk appeared as Draco tossed his hair back and shrugged. "I've broken all Malfoy traditions so far, I don't see why I should stop now. We will have a daughter and then our daughter will inherit. Arbraxas will be flagrated in his grave. Rotten grandfather, smelled funny too… of dark magic and spoilt Finnish ale. Grumpy old snoot." Draco pulled his nose up in a disgust, in memory of the offending aroma.

Hermione had been trying to weigh her priorities ever since she realised she was pregnant and gave voice to her conundrum, "Do you think I will be able to balance work and taking care of the baby? If I work the hours I'm keeping now, I'll have to enrol the baby in a crèche. Then I'll feel guilty about not spending time with him."

Draco seemed to be weighing his words carefully, "Her. You may want to quit at least one of your commitments for a while. Let someone else have the… honour… of contributing to the world. You can easily write for the Prophet and Quibbler from home and you can just as effortlessly oversee the running of the sanctuary, the baby can visit with you. The ministry job, there could be danger there from vengeful creatures. I would recommend you take a hiatus from that for a while. Everyone will understand Hermione." When Draco saw the protest forming on Hermione's lips, he continued, "You aren't going to accomplish less, Granger. You will just be prioritising. You will be investing in your child's future. That takes talent, commitment and dedication. It is a very worthy career, nourishing your baby to be a decent human being. Besides, you won't be satisfied with our daughter just being a wonderful person, you will probably aspire for her to be the most skilled and accomplished witch… or wizard that Hogwarts has ever seen, after us of course. No, Dumbledore doesn't count." _Scoff _"Potter was dragged along by your accomplished finger, so he doesn't count at all."

They headed home as dusk settled comfortably, making the sky it's own.

While Hermione was tossing a salad, Draco heated the soup that the elves had dropped by earlier. It was his turn to wonder out loud, "Will we ever get time to ourselves anymore? After the baby?"

Hermione forked the salad into their dinner plates as she looked up at him and smiled gently. It warmed her that Draco expected to be around enough with the baby to want time alone with her. "I am sure the grandparents will be more than happy to baby-sit on weekends. They'll probably fight over who gets to have him more. Then there is the Weasley brood, we'll just temporarily charm his hair red and throw him in with the lot. What's one more? They won't even realise he's there."

Draco shuddered, "No, we will not dye her hair red."

The two had a peaceful dinner and headed up to bed. They changed into their comfortable nightclothes. Draco did not habitually sleep in his boxers, much to her dismay! He said his arms hurt in the mornings if it got cool at night, and as seeker, he couldn't afford the stiff brachial muscles. Hermione had noticed that since the past week or so, Draco had not been sleeping too well. He woke often and even when asleep, seemed to thrash restlessly. She'd enquired if something was bothering him but his eyes had gone blank and he'd changed the topic.

As he turned the lights out and turned to hold her hand, Hermione let another thought slip. "What if the baby doesn't sleep during the nights for a whole year?"

She could visualise his indulging smile in the dark, "There are spells and tinctures to help a baby sleep. I know because Misty's mother, Aga, used to force them down my throat at night. I always felt like I would miss out on some big adventure if I went to bed too early. No, they don't have any side effects. I turned out fine, didn't I? What? That is _so _not debatable!"

The next morning, Hermione steeped out of the shower to find Draco shaving there, with the mirror charmed to remain mist-free. This had been a recent development. Typically, Draco returned home in the mornings for his morning routine. Recently though, every once in a while, he would prepare for the day and leave for work from her place. This meant some of his possessions had made their way into her home. Hermione had cleared some space in several drawers and her coat closet, and had enjoyed seeing them fill with odds and ends from his daily life. A pair of cufflinks, some smalls, a few books, his prized phoenix feather quill, his Corona 3007 broom. His shampoo in her bathroom, his toothbrush on her sink, his cologne and shaving kit in the closet beneath it.

She studied his reflection and he suddenly looked absolutely terrified, "How will we know how to bathe the baby?"

"Our moms brought us up, didn't they? Grandmothers know things like that. They'll teach us how to bathe him safely."

"Her."

Everyday, myriad apprehensions emerged, and everyday Draco helped Hermione worry less about each.

"What will my parents say?"  
"What will Harry say?"  
"What will the Weasleys say?"

"Your parents will love our child probably more than they loved you, and who can blame them, with my genes, our baby will be irresistible. The Potters and Weasleys will care as deeply for your child as you care for theirs. The shock will wear off, you will see."

Draco always knew what to say to make her feel better. Almost always, anyway.

There was one concern Hermione didn't voice: what if she got jealous of Draco's attention being focused away from her? Would she feel competitive over Draco's sparse affection? Hermione buried the thought, deeply ashamed at her selfishness. Draco would be with her, caring for their baby, almost every important step of the way, at least in the beginning. That was more than he had promised and all that she could ask for. Eventually, once he married someone else and had children of his own… _legitimate _children of his own… then she would worry about his lacking attentions.

Hermione was no fool, she knew her child would have to face several stigmas in the wizarding world – purebloods would taunt her baby about the mudblood mother; prudes could throw the slur of 'Illegitimate bastard'; 'Malfoy spawn' would be brandished in hate by those who had suffered from Lucius' evil acts directly; and in fear by those who had borne the brunt of Draco's irate disapproval.

Hermione had recalled and replayed in her mind the conversation she had seen in Harry's penseive repeatedly. Draco had been right about Hermione; she would protect her child from unfair discrimination. If the only recourse was to remove her child from the magical world for a while, then so be it.

Disappearing for a few years and returning with a story, that option had several merits. She could proclaim that she'd married a muggle who had tragically passed away, allowing her to return to the wizarding world with his child. That was fairly believable, right? The more tragic she made the story, the more human nature would direct her audience to lap it up. Then the child would have fewer stigmas to worry about. Mudblood heritage meant less and less to the magical world with each passing year. By the time the baby reached 11, it might even mean nothing. The pureblood race might not be extinct by then, but it would be an inch closer. Hermione had been tough enough to take the abuse, and even though she wanted to protect her child from that discrimination, she was sure their child would be tough enough to take on the world, if necessary, in time. If entirely necessary. In plenty of time. Or never?

Draco would need convincing to see the virtues of this plan, Hermione was certain. So she kept it close to her heart. She would play it by ear; first gauge the reactions of the people closest to her. If the initial general opinion regarding her controversial pregnancy proved unfavourable, she would leave. She accepted that Draco had the right to be involved in his child's upbringing but she could not allow anyone else to be in command of her life. She reserved a place in her mind and calendar to address these concerns at a more opportune moment. For now, she kept her eye on the big picture. She was pregnant! With the child of the man she had loved for years. Draco was very much visible in the happy picture, playing the doting father-to-be, precisely as a doting father-to-be ought. Life was brilliant.

She blossomed in the novelty of his attention, the warmth of his affection and the comforting blanket of his protectiveness. Life was really, _really_ brilliant.

Except that she perpetually wanted to throw up.

~0~

May had ushered in gorgeous days and clear skies. Hermione spent her first Sunday of the month at Ashram. She was feeding Zara a sandwich for lunch in the Great Hall as the energetic little girl ran to and fro between bites. "Zara you should sit in one place and eat."

"But Hermione, I finish eating, _then_ I run. It's so boring to sit in one place. Did I tell you, I was running outside near the lake one night, I was running behind Oscar and Vicot was there!"

The revelation aroused not only curiosity, but also a significant amount of concern. Vicot Esway had belonged to a group of rebellious teens at Ashram that had made her almost regret her decision to start the house. His mother had died of an illness whilst he was still a child and his death-eater father had been killed in the final battle. Vicot, though not the instigator of many a strife, had been found complicit in several delinquent acts. Raza, Fargo, Vicot and Nethaniel had been involved in many duels with children from other backgrounds. Amongst the oldest in the sanctuary when it's doors opened, their death-eater sympathies had been quite unadulterated. As a final act of defiance before they left upon graduating, they had started a fire that had burned Ashram's outhouse with the muggle equipment. No one had been hurt, but the level of antipathy and lack of remorse had appalled Hermione.

Vicot's presence around an un-chaperoned little girl, out on the dark grounds, was not a circumstance Hermione wanted repeated. She speculated about the reason leading to it.

"What did he want Zara?"

"He was asking about Tynen. I told him he doesn't live here anymore so he asked to speak with Eva, but I told him she had gone to meet Tynen for Easter. He told me he would love to come in and have tea, but I didn't want to ask him in. He was so messy and I know Warden Sani doesn't like if we bring in dirty clothes and shoes. I didn't want us to get into trouble. So I told him I'd get Rosemary to scourgify him first. When I came back with Rosemary, he was gone. I know I was mean, I shouldn't have been. I'm sorry?"

"You did fine Zara, you listened to your instincts When in doubt, always call an elder and never, ever talk to strangers. I know Vicot isn't a complete stranger to you, you've seen his picture and heard of him, still you can't trust him. Also, this is very important, I do not want you running out of the dorms at night, especially without an adult present. There are snakes and wild animals out there, you could fall into the lake… something bad could happen. I need you to follow rules. I'll be very disappointed if you go out alone again. Oscar is a big dog now, he can take care of himself. You, on the other hand, are my little baby girl and I can't have you hurt, can I?"

Zara nodded her head so her curls bounced angelically, then she started to hop in the excitement of a story yet untold. "You know what Serena did yesterday? She jumped into the lake with her clothes on and Madam Pierce had to jump in with her clothes on to get her out because Serena's feet were caught in the Slipnight weed!"

Hermione was taken aback. "Why didn't warden Sani clear the weed away or tell someone to do it? I'm surprised Neville didn't clear it away the last time he came."

Zara looked forlorn, but only for a moment as was her nature, "Oh, Neville hasn't been around for months! Neither has Luna. Maybe I'll send them an owl and ask them to drop by. I bet they'll come if I ask nicely."

Hermione kissed the little girls temple as she got up, "You do that, princess. Good job with lunch, you can have some ice cream now. I need to check on Serena and make sure she's all right. Slipnight can be scary."

Hermione didn't mention that she intended to have a serious word with the warden. That a little girl was running out of the building at night was bloodcurdling. It was entirely irresponsible on the part of the adult supervisors in whom Hermione entrusted the safety of these children! Nevertheless, Hermione accepted that no adult in Hogwarts had been able to stop the Golden Trio from doing exactly as they pleased. The supervisors could not be held accountable for each action of each child, even though that was their job. However, that a potentially dangerous weed had grown unchecked in the shallow waters of the Ashram lake - that was unacceptable.

Hermione had hired the new warden just a few months ago after running several background checks. The carelessness displayed by Ms Sani Kreosouriamanut O'day in the past month alone had been quite annoying. Hermione had given Ms Kreosouriamanut O'day multiple chances and overlooked a number of minor complaints, with the view to give her time to settle in. Now she was beginning to wonder if it was time to look for a replacement. She would also have to have a word with the Principal. Hermione was incensed that she had not been contacted immediately subsequent to both incidents. Shaking her head, Hermione sought out little Serena, who, in her resilient ways had all but forgotten about the Slipnight. The little girl articulated her story flourished with the excitement of having splashed the prim Ms Pierce, Ashram's version of Professor McGonagal.

"I wan in and she wan in after me. You know, she walked funny and swipped four times! I swipped one time." She exclaimed proudly. "I wet her I wet her! Her hair got sooo funny! Then she brought me out and gave me hot chocolate! Before wunch! I wike her, she's not as bowing as Pria says. I don't wike Mam Sani. Mam Sani scwoded me."

It was final then, time for Ms Sani Kreosouriamanut O'day to find alternative employment.

Hermione came home fuming and told Draco about the incidents at the school. He was inadequately responsive, as always, but he did update her with the news that he had renewed the contract with the marine ecologist who had initially created the natural lake environment. He admitted to a lack of foresight, "Luna is pregnant too you know, around 2 months. I should have known that Neville would not have too much time for Ashram right now. The Slipnight should have been cleared by now, and I'll instruct Renada to start looking for a new warden."

Hermione almost commented on the fact that Draco had known about the Slipnight before her, which meant Principal Homewood had informed him and not her. Was that on Draco's order? She let it go. If he wanted to take care of these things for her, she wouldn't complain. "Luna is pregnant too? That's excellent! How do you know? Even Ginny didn't know!"

Draco looked up as he set the colourful earthenware plates on the island table in her kitchen, "Granger, when will you learn? I know everything. Like I know that it is time for your dinner and then time for bed if you want to read that new book I saw in your study. Tell me, what are you doing with all those muggle newspapers?"

"Just some research for work... muggle relations." Hermione turned around and walked to the opposite counter to unpack the take-out boxes that held their warm dinner. "Hmm, how did you know I wanted to have Thai today?" She turned to smile at him.

"Oh, I don't know." Draco rolled his eyes as he forked the rice into a nice bowl. He would concede to eating take-out food, but he was adamant about eating it from proper tableware. "Maybe it was the owl that claimed you were craving Green Curry? Or was it the owl that announced you were craving Penang curry? No, I think it was the owl that promised me some action if I got you some Pad-Thai today. Do you know how many restaurants I had to check before I found one that did not use MSG? You owe me some darn serious action. Though, I don't really think we ought to partake in any action in the foreseeable future… it feels distinctly odd. The baby is right there, what if she feels uncomfortable. No, we'll wait for a while. Nine months too long? Merlin that sounds painfully long."

* * *

See, I told you I would post today :) It took me ages, obsessing over this chapter, I never quite found it good enough, always wondering if I got Draco's reactions/ gestures right. Now, finally, now, I think it is sorta ok. Please let me know what you think? Thanks!


	30. The Thing About Reality

This chapter dedicated to all the women in my life. You have been advisor, ally, challenger, supporter, pain in the _utt, soundboard, psychologist and most importantly… friend. You have taught me, sometimes more than what I can process and appreciate at the time. And you have been there, for that I am most grateful.

Thank you to all the recent reviewers, the above includes you.

Not betaed, so errors in judgement all mine! Please help point them out till Dixie (another awesome woman) is back with her wise counsel?

* * *

**The Thing About Reality? **

**It isn't.**

Along with golden sunny days, happily chirping birds and the return of the sorely missed green on the trees, May was also the harbinger for wedding bells. Ron and Elma were getting married in less than two weeks. The ceremony was being conducted at Elma's grandmother's château in France, but Hermione had helped out as much as she could with preparations for the evening reception at the Burrow. Harry, as Ron's Best Man, was much more involved in the wedding and Ginny had completely taken charge of their wardrobes.

Hermione was left to be an active spectator, a role she did not regret in the least. She was very content with the many roles she was presently playing in her life. She had no energy left to take on the responsibility of yet another that placed demands on her waning energy levels. As close as she had been to Ron, over the years they had drifted apart just that bit, a fact that both accepted gracefully. Harry of course, remained the common factor that held them all together. In Hermione's life, Ginny had filled the spot left vacant in Ron's gradual absence. Hermione treasured her closeness with Ginny. All their young lives, the girls had been surrounded by boys and men; now they appreciated more than ever, the ears and the nurturing only another woman could provide for a woman's soul.

Hermione was meeting Ginny for lunch one Tuesday afternoon when the topic of the wedding came up. Mama Rita's Café in Diagon Alley was close to Hermione's work and usually slow Tuesdays found the Gryffie women there for lunch.

"So, who are you bringing to the wedding?" Ginny asked casually.

Hermione hadn't thought of this before, which left her in a quandary. Draco hadn't asked her to accompany him and she didn't think he would. He still hadn't told his mother that they were 5 weeks pregnant, so she doubted he'd want to announce to the world that they were together. Did that mean they were going with other people? Who would she go with? She scanned her brain for possible options but came up short. Who would _he_ bring? She felt rage build up in her, and as often happened these days, emotion was accompanied by heartburn. She coughed as the bile reached her throat.

Ginny patted her back and pushed her glass of water closer, speculation obvious in her clear blue eyes.

"By your reaction, I guess you haven't decided still. You know, Brian was asking about you the other night. I think he doesn't have a date either. Why don't you go with him?" A mischievous smile now broke on the redhead's pretty face.

Hermione looked down into her glass, "I don't know Ginny, I don't want to give him the wrong idea."

"What's the wrong idea? That you could like him?"

Hermione hesitated, no predilection for this line of conversation present in her curt, "Yes."

"You know, that's the odd part. I thought you _did _like him. In fact, I thought he was perfect for you. He's intelligent, witty, can keep up with you and to boot it all, he's got killer looks. Have you even noticed that bottom in those soft blue jeans? What's a man to do, to catch your attention? I am honestly wondering why you aren't chasing him down with the most daring cleavage you can find in a dress. A more determined woman may have started sneaking hopeful peeks at wedding dresses by now."

Hermione thought this through for a split second. She would need an excuse that Ginny would find worthy. She had to play Ginny's cards.

"He's a really nice guy Gin, and we did meet for lunch several times. I wish I were attracted to him, I really do… but there's no chemistry you know? He leaves me feeling as desirable as a pregnant leprechaun. He's interested in my brains and finds our conversations intellectually stimulating, but trust me, I'm not the one for him. Please don't get me wrong. His accent is terribly attractive, Irish magic fascinates me, I can converse with him for hours, and am really fond of him. I reckon if I got close to him, he'd be almost as good a friend to me as one of the Weasley men… but that's not what I'm looking for in a relationship."

Ginny rolled her eyes as she asked patiently, "What _are _you looking for in a relationship Hermione Granger? Troy, Ron, Draco, Brian, Viktor… none of these men held your attention. No one will be as perfect as you, you know. You have to compromise somewhere, or you will end up alone with your perfection."

Hermione shrugged. She was sure she looked as comfortable as she felt, because Ginny gave an apologetic smile and changed the topic.

"By the way, are you saying that the Weasley men lack in your requirements from a man?" Ginny peppered her sarcasm with a genuine smile, indicating she was not taking this seriously… right before she bit into a huge bite of her crepe… a crepe filled with mushrooms, olives, bell peppers and cheese. Just smelling the lot made Hermione feel sick. Hermione could smell food a mile away. That usually did her no favours. Everything made her want to heave. Ginger ale was Hermione's new best friend.

Hermione shook her head, took a couple of sips of her cold drink and picked out a sliver of orange from her salad to nibble. She thought for a second, ignored her rationales and impulsively spoke to Ginny in the language that she hoped mimicked the romance novels Ginny was so fond of.

"Ginny, I am going to sound all-a-flutter like your historical romance heroines. Here goes, my miserable requirements in a man include the talent to treat me with amusing disdain, some one who can find his sense of humour when I lose it, so he forces me to not take myself seriously. I want someone who can outsmart and outthink me, someone able to take charge when others pale in comparison. Someone who can handle the demands of my overwhelming life, however unwillingly I hand the reigns to him. I want to be able to look up to him. He ought to be able to stir up some excitement, have me quivering with fear in one moment and anticipation in another." Hermione stopped to gauge Ginny's reaction. "I don't make much sense, do I?"

Ginny sat there, fork poised right in front of her open mouth, eyes wide in astonishment. Even though through their adolescent years, Ginny had been known to trust Hermione with boy-troubles, histrionics and the most sensationalised utterances enticed by said boys, Hermione was not prone to divulgences of the sort. Sensible Hermione Granger just was not the type.

Hermione immediately regretted her melodramatic outburst and admonished herself for the flight of impractical fancy. She couldn't possibly inform Ginny that she wanted an enigma, a man who was a closed book to the world who allowed _only_ her to read him, one fascinating chapter at a time. She couldn't reveal what she considered her own perverse weakness to Ginny; that the man to hold her heart, though sometimes indefensibly harsh in words, ought be quite considerate in his actions, actions he often tried to conceal for fear of being thought 'soft'. Hermione could certainly not recite the key physical requirements she sought in a man - ash blond hair; and stormy grey eyes that turned to sky blue in the mornings and charcoal in the evenings, but only if aroused.

Perhaps it was a good thing then, that Hermione didn't share these notions in just as many words. Ginny would have jumped to accurate conclusions and come up with Draco in less time than it took to say "Sexy Dress Robes".

It took Ginny a moment to absorb Hermione's uncharacteristic proclamation and the embarassed dissembly that followed, before she smiled gently. "Right, not a tall order at all, sweets. Unfortunately for you, there was just one of those men out there, and I bagged him. Charlie may fit the bill though. He has that _amused disdain_ thing down to an art form. Ron's hygiene habits can have any woman quivering in fear, but you missed the boat on that one."

"Ginny, _your_ brothers all feel like _my_ brothers! They are all very attractive in their own respective ways, but it seems immoral to think of them in this regard. Can you blame me though? I grew up witnessing them pass wind and worse, from all orifices possible. Not conducive to entertaining romantic notions. They all, at one time or another have made me fall- but because of a prank, or a misplaced Quidditch equipment… and not in love."

Ginny sighed, "Those boys, they've ruined you, I swear. No Brian then. Poor chap, you can see his eyes twinkle when he speaks of you. Though I guess they twinkle just as much when he speaks of pregnant leprechauns." The women exchanged grins. "I guess I'll have to introduce him to Padma. She's made quiet a name for herself as a healer. Those Ravenclaw traits served her well; maybe she will find something in common with Brian. So are you coming with your standard date then? Draco? He executes the amused disdain thing to perfection... in fact, he may have invented it."

Hermione tried her best to look neutral, especially since Ginny seemed to be studying her quite blatantly.

"Err… I don't think so. I think he's bringing someone else. I may come on my own."

"Codswallop! If you don't have a date yet, you're going to go with Brian. I'll let him know you were asking about him too."

Hermione protested, "Ginny, no, that may be awkward. He sent me flowers for Valentine's and I never responded."

Ginny tut tutted, "All the more reason to go with him and assuage his ego a bit. The poor bloke is just trying to be friendly and explore a possibility Hermione. He's not asking you to marry him. Give him another chance?"

Hermione didn't know how to get out of this one. She nodded, "Let me think this through a bit. Can I tell you tomorrow?" When Hermione saw Ginny begin to object, she continued, "How about this? If I do decide to go out with him I'll owl him myself tomorrow, you'll not even have to play matchmaker. That's one less task for you for the wedding. Go on, it's a good deal, be a sport!"

Ginny grinned and nodded, "Done. Tomorrow then. Now I have to go pick up my imps from the Weasley day care services." She winked, put her share of the bill on the table and hugged Hermione before apparating away.

Hermione spent a productive day at work, though she almost fired Alisha for lunching at her own desk… as the blameless girl had done from day one. Wandable frozen lunches were enemy number one in Hermione's fertility almanac right now. When, as per tradition, Alisha brought her lunch in to Hermione to magically heat, the young girl had no clue how close she was to being called a squib. Using infinite control, Hermione would curtail the string of complaints that she yearned to unleash and would instead find an excuse to leave the office for about 15 minutes.

Just as she was about to leave work that evening, Hermione received an owl from Brian, asking her to accompany him to the wedding. Ginny worked fast. Mulling over what to do, Hermione flooed home, feeling a little more tired than usual. She probably ought to get used to it, it would only get worse the next eight months. She was excited though, according to the doctors, she was over 5 weeks along. Since she had probably conceived about 10 days following the first date of her last period, the baby was about one month old… just about now!

Draco flooed over a little while later, holding a hamper full of fresh sandwiches and some tomato-ginger-basil soup. Hermione hugged him, grateful to see him as always. They fell into their routine; dinner, a little walk, some TV for him, a good book for her.

Hermione was biting her lip wondering how to approach the topic when Draco confronted her about it. "Out with it Granger, what's bothering you? That's the third time you've said no to a raspberry frozen bar. You love those things these days!"

Hermione looked into his aquiline features, wondering when he'd gotten to know her so well. She stated tonelessly, "Brian wants me to accompany him to Ron's wedding."

Draco went still, though he continued looking toward the TV screen. "You met him?"

Hermione hid a grin, was that jealousy slinking through Draco's legendary poise? "No, I met Ginny for lunch and she asked me if I was going with my standard date. That used to be you."

Draco looked past Hermione to stare outside the window behind her, "How did you respond?"

Hermione gave him the details of her conversation with Ginny, feeling a trifle odd. Draco didn't meet her eyes as he looked back at the muted television. "Granger, I think it would be wiser if we were not associated romantically. Too much drama."

Hermione interpolated calmly, "We have attended many functions together in the past Draco. No one blinked an eye after the first few events. They are used to seeing us together."

Draco shook his head, "Things are different now, we have a baby to consider. Our body language might betray us. There will be too many strangers at the wedding, too many unknown factors. I'm not prepared for the world to know yet."

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and admonished herself. He had said nothing that was worthy of a bawl. Yet, she felt like weeping.

_Hormones. _

She got so emotional these days, a sad book made her maudlin, an energetic pup playing with a gleeful child in the park had her sniffing, a happy story made her cry, a spiritual revelation overwhelmed her, even a funny sit-com induced tears. There wasn't much that didn't inspire cause for high emotions these days, so really, this shouldn't have come as a surprise.

She consoled herself that the fewer people that knew in the wizarding world, the fewer people she would have to obliviate if she chose to abscond.

"So whom are you taking to the wedding?" she steeled herself.

"Pansy." Draco looked her right in the eye, challenge written in black and white in the slate grey.

Hermione clenched her fist till she felt her fingernails dig into her palms. When had he planned to tell her? "Oh, I hadn't realised you two were still close."

Draco shrugged, "You know how you and I were assumed dates for war-related functions? Pansy is my stand in for pureblood events."

Hermione felt a shiver scale her spine. "I didn't realise you frequented pureblood events."

Draco nodded as he turned up the volume of the TV, "I have to, for work."

Draco proceeded to increase the volume of the television to a level that made conversation implausible. He had stymied this conversation deliberately. As he had reminded her a month ago, she wasn't his wife and this wasn't a marriage. Malfoy business was not on the list of subjects that could be amicably discussed.

_Big picture Hermione, big picture. Draco's baby was always going to come at a price. No free lunches and no free sperms._

She got up slowly and walked over to the kitchen table, where she sat down with some parchment and a quill. She wrote a note and took it to a much-reformed Zephyrus, sitting on a perch in the living room. The large owl had a perch in each room in Hermione's flat, she didn't believe in cages for birds. "Can you please take this to Brian? You don't have to wait for a reply unless he asks you to. Thank you Zephyrus."

She saw Draco's tensed shoulders, tight lips and set mouth, and knew he had heard her instructions to the owl. Well, what did he expect?

She walked into her drawing room, picked up the remote, turned the TV's volume down and looked him square in the eye.

"By the way, Draco, I know you prefer working through the path of least resistance, but you should be aware that normal people may consider that manipulation. I understand that you asked Principal Homewood to keep me insulated from the daily stressors at Ashram?"

Draco shook his head in annoyance, "Hermione, you need to calm down. I was not manipulating you. I simply asked him to refrain from inconveniencing you about little things that I, or someone else, could easily take care of. You have enough on your plate. I did not want you any more anxious than you normally find yourself. Why this has to become a big deal, I can not comprehend."

Hermione bristled at the hint that she was over-reacting, "I appreciate your concern, truly, I do. I also acknowledge that I signed onto your intervention in my life when we commenced on our pact. No, let me finish. I am grateful that you are taking on so much in my life, leaving me less to worry about. However, I will not compromise on the issues that concern the safety of those children. I admit that Homewood is more intimidated by you than me, but I have other allies and sources of information inside Ashram walls. If I find that you are trying to hide pertinent news from me again, Principal Homewood may find himself fired and you may find the wards on this flat surprisingly impenetrable."

The now stony Draco, got up, waved one hand in front of him, in a curious combination of resignation and annoyance. He didn't say a word, just apparated away. That was his way of letting her know, that currently, he didn't care to be in her flat, with or without the wards. Hermione surmised that Draco didn't like emotional confrontations very much. Neither did she, usually, but at least she didn't run away at the first sign of one!

_Coward!_

Hermione admitted to herself that she could have conducted the conversation under a more preferable scenario, in her more dulcet tones, but she had been feeling hurt over his refusal to escort her to the wedding. Normal Hermione was different from a hormonal, pregnant Hermione. Pregnant Hermione would have appreciated some cherishing, some nourishing and not being told to go find her own date while he went with Pansy Parkinson. Normal Hermione wouldn't be bothered, but pregnant Hermione had wanted to lash out about something, anything.

_Hormones suck!_

Hermione went up to bed that seemed hopelessly empty without him. She fell into restless slumber. A little while later, she heard her bedroom door open and picked up her wand in reflex.

"Shh, it's me. Go back to sleep."

"Draco? I'm glad you came back."

Hermione felt Draco's weight next to her on the bed and his arm go around her waist. Just like that, the tension left her body. This was usually all it took for them to make up after small spats. A simple sign of reconciliation. Both practical people, neither dwelled on long-winded, sentimental make-up talks. Feeling far better than she had previous to his arrival, she fell asleep.

It was some odd feeling that roused Hermione. The clock told her it was 2:11 am. Draco's head was thrashing to and fro in sudden, jerky movements, his body following suit. Alarmed, Hermione turned on the lamp. Though his eyes were closed, Hermione could distinguish his pupils moving rapidly under his pale eyelids, which also brought her attention to the dark circles under his eyes. How had she missed those till now, glamour charm? Draco's face glistened in a sheet of sweat. He was visibly, agonisingly, distressed.

Hermione tenderly caressed his forehead, murmuring softly, trying to gently persuade Draco away from whatever hell he was caught in.

"Hush, it's okay, it's all right Draco. Baby, it's only a nightmare. Shh… Draco, please wake up."

Gradually, Draco's body ceased its jerky lashing and his facial features started to lose their taut tension. Hermione continued to caress his face with one hand as she moved the other to hold one of his clammy hands. Draco's hand tightened around hers and he let out a sigh. Abruptly, he opened his eyes to find hers.

Hermione felt a physical wave of emotion sweep through her as she read the torment in the full moon eyes. Right now, they were those of an anguished, helpless little boy, completely broken.

Hermione's hand cupped his face… she felt her heart swell with fierce love for this man. He had always helped her get rid of her demons. By Merlin, she was going to help him exorcise his!

Hermione handed Draco a glass of water from her bedside. He slowly sat up and Hermione could see the water splashing the sides of the glass in his trembling hands.

"Draco, please tell me?" she pleaded.

Draco put the glass on his bedside drawer and pulled up his knees as he hid his face behind them. Hermione kept her hands in her lap, though right now, all she wanted to do was hug this man till he suffocated. She had learnt this about Draco, if you wanted him to come to you, you gave him space. There was no surer way of pushing him away than by smothering him.

"If I tell you, you will overanalyse this to death and draw some far fetched conclusions that have nothing to do with reality." He raised his head to look out of her window, finding some meaning in the infinite darkness that lay behind.

Hermione's hands twitched, but she held them back. "I can not promise that I will not try to understand. I can promise that I will not judge."

Draco nodded and took a deep breath, "I've often wondered what my life would have been, if that day in the tower, I hadn't stopped, if I had uttered the curse to kill Dumbledore. Or even, if unable to slay the headmaster, continued to stay with the Death Eaters. My present could have been… entirely altered. I barely managed to escape my doom. If I hadn't thrown a fit in front of Snape that night… I called him vile names you know, and Voldemort worse ones. I refused to return to the Death Eaters. He told me he'd have to kill me for disloyalty to the Dark Lord and I challenged him to. If Snape had not been who he was, if he had not believed me, if he had not taken the biggest risk by bringing me to the Order, telling the other Death Eaters that I had fled… what would have become of me? Would Voldemort have killed me the same night? If not, who would I be today? Would I have become just like them, a dark monster? Forced at first to be indifferent, then to torture and then kill, till it all became a norm? I have the potential, I have the weakness. I took the Dark Mark. I could have slipped so easily."

Hermione stayed quiet, sensing there was more.

"Ever since… the baby… I… what if I am an awful father? What if I lead him down the path that my father led me? I've been having these dreams… every time it's the same… it is so real. I still can't kill Dumbledore, but I watch quietly, say nothing after Snape… I return to the Manor, to Voldemort. There…" Draco shuddered, "he threatens my parents, forces me to torture people. I see terrible acts, but I just sit and watch. I worry for my safety, my parents' safety so I follow the orders. Then you, you get caught and land up at the Manor somehow. They want me to hurt you, but I refuse, I can't do it. Then Bella, she tortures you, uses the Cruciatus. You scream endlessly Hermione, you scream so loud." Draco's tormented face fell into his hands and his body shook.

Hermione slowly reached forward to touch his shoulder. At the first touch, he jerked back, shocked, transported back from the torment he visited almost every night.

Hermione moved closer then, taking his hands away from his face, holding one tightly in her hand as she let her other hand roam his face, clearing his forehead of the sweat-drenched hair that fell there. "Draco, I am not going to lie. I will not say that you could never have done those things, that that future was impossible. I am going to tell you the obvious truth. You did _not _go down the path. You _chose_ not to."

Draco lifted his head to look at her and Hermione understood the plea there. A plea for redemption, a plea for acquittal for the sins he considered he committed in his sleep, a plea for faith in him, faith that in reality, he would never be that person.

She found her thumb on his forehead, easing the creases that marred it, "Our world is the result of our choices, our actions. In another plane of existence, another dimension, another past, maybe those things happened. It would have been the natural progression of events had you not made that one decision, to refuse to act a Death Eater. In this life though, you refused to follow that path. You risked your own life by refusing to perform Voldemort's task and then you stood up to Snape. You must have said something exceptionally drastic to convince Snape of your motivations, else he would never have revealed his own to you. Once you were protected though, you could have gone into hiding, passively watching the war from a distance, like the Zabinis, but you took the higher road.

I learned this when I used the time-turner- various futures exist simultaneously, which is why divination is a fluke at best. Each choice can bring us to a dramatically different future. Many futures, many presents coexist in different planes and different versions of us lead significantly different lives, not just because of one life-altering moment, but because of little decisions that we make on a daily basis. A simple act of kindness, consideration, versus an act of apathy or injustice – they alter not just the life of the object of the said action, but the life of the subject, and all the lives that the two touch.

Every moment is a defining moment, every choice a test. Will the thief chose to never steal again, will the teenager take that first puff of drugs instead of studying? Will the girl have unprotected sex? Will that hurt woman chose anger or forgiveness, will the kid kick the wounded animal or help it? Will that drunk driver drive? Will that man re-examine his ideals to realise they are faulted, will a leader choose to be self- serving, will the industrialist dump his waste into the sea or recycle it?

Our conscience, it speaks to us, but if we ignore it long enough, we can smother it till all that remains is an obscure feeling, easily brushed aside.

When I researched astral projection through time-space, I learnt that during sleep, our souls travel through space-time and test the possibilities of other lives, other planes. You could have, without doubt, carved yourself into a replica of your father, but you didn't. Instead, you created a unique identity for yourself, apart from any other wizard I know. You proved to the world that you are a power to reckon with, but not because of your family's status; because you challenged every ideal, even your own presumed fate. You chose to be the person that today, Harry, the Weasleys and I, we all care for, very deeply. I can't begin to tell you how much you mean to the kids at Ashram. You, Draco… you will be an excellent father. I can't wait to see our baby with you, you will be so perfect for her in everyway. You'll protect her, love her... It will come, you'll see. I see it in you already. Our daughter? She will adore you. She'll hate me for all my rules and all my demanding expectations, but you? She will love you without restraints. She will love you for the fun she will have playing with you, for the way you will tease her, for how you will be her friend."

Hermione took a deep breath, "You know what I really think?"

Draco looked much better by now, his composure regained, his body relaxed. He settled back against the headboard, a small smile on his face. "No, you are so conservative in sharing your estimations Hermione, you never speak what's on your mind. Please, do tell what you think."

Hermione burst into laughter then. Her Draco was back. "I think that you are just having these nightmares because you, the ultimate commitment-phobic Casanova, are having to deal with the idea of having a baby, to settle down a bit. That means you will have to grow up a little. You don't like that idea too much, do you? As a matter of fact, I believe that you, Draco Malfoy are scared, terrified even."

Draco grinned, "Granger, have you been reading _What to Expect When your Witch is Expecting_? That book's meant for men! I got it to stay abreast of the hormonal…err, fluctuations that we ought to expect in you. You read that chapter, _First-Time Father's Psychology_, didn't you?"

Hermione grinned back as she straightened the sheets around them, "I may have glanced at it, yes."

"So you pilfer through my things in your flat?" Draco reached forward, tucking some stray hair behind her ear, letting her know with this affectionate gesture that he hadn't minded.

"I do no such thing! I was merely cleaning the closet to make more space for you, and it fell. When do you read it? I've never seen you with it." Hermione tried to think, but couldn't recall him reading it.

Draco looked smug and raised an eyebrow in expectation.

Hermione made a face in revulsion, "No! Draco, tell me you don't read in the toilet? Disgusting, that's like insulting a book! And I touched it! Gross! Right then! We henceforth have a most stringent addendum to our agreement. Any reading material that goes to the loo with you has to be replaced with a new version, if the said book was from this house. If it was yours, it needs to be removed from this house permanently, never being accessible to my curious hands. Do we have a deal?"

Draco nodded and turned off the lamps with a flick of his capable, wand-less hand. "Deal. Say, that copy of _Hogwarts a History_ first edition, the one I got for your 25th birthday? I don't think I can find a replacement for that. Guess I'll just have to take it."

"Draco!"

"Kidding, Granger. Now can you please let me sleep?"

"You know the other reason you may be having this dream?"

"I am convinced you will tell me Granger."

"Your psyche is forcing you to realise that if I got hurt, you'd be affected. Your subconscious is telling your consciousness to admit that you care very, very deeply for me."

Hermione grinned, and he returned the favour, his eyes oddly luminescent in the faint moonlight that glazed her room in a silver sheen.

"Maybe it is Granger, maybe it is."

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Please take a minute to review? Thanks.


	31. The Nuptials

**Many Thanks to the brilliant Margaritama who extended her priceless insights and betaing skills for the following two chapters.**If you have not read her stories yet, forget this chapter & go read the hilarious and fast-paced _**Her Shoes**_ (rated MA) & _**Accidental Magic**_. I confess to being inspired by _**Her Shoes**_ and allowing my Draco to be a little more expressive (in the next update) than he has recently been.

I added more to the chapter after her betaing, so mistakes all mine!

My apologies for being unable to reply to all reviews. Lest I seem ungrateful, you should know, that each and every review cheers my days and adds spring to my step, and brightens my soul and colors me happy. If _that _wasn't enough, your con-crit helps me be a better writer! Thank you, Kamsahamnida, Xie xie, Arigato, Gracias, Merci, Dankie, Dank u, Spassibo, Shukur, Shukran, Shukriya. Ok, that's all the languages I know it in :)

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**The Nuptials**

_Knock-knock._

_Tap._

_Knock-knock._

_Tap tap tap tap tap tap._

Hermione looked up from the 15-foot scroll on her desk to ascertain the two sources of disturbance. Alisha was standing at her private cabin's open door, whilst a raven tapped insistently at the faux window, a parcel tied to its long talons. Assistant gawked at bird. Bird glared at Hermione.

"Alisha, can you give me a few minutes? I need to get this done." Before Hermione could stop the girl without sounding suspicious, Alisha had crossed the office's length, opened the window and let the corvid in.

"How in Merlin's name did that crow get there? Why couldn't it fly the usual route via the office?" Alisha tried to take the mail from the crow but was deterred by a furious flapping of wings, a warning nip from a very sharp beak and the crow's cry of protest.

"No!" The raven scolded. Alisha withdrew hastily, astounded by the talking.

The crow flew to Hermione's desk and lifted its talon for Hermione. Having delivered the parcel, the raven flew out the window that held a simulated view of the city.

Alisha's curiosity was blatant, "Err… boss? What was the crow doing in your office? How did it talk?"

Hermione kept the parcel in a drawer. "That was a raven, Alisha. Ravens can imitate sounds they hear, and can thus be taught to talk."

"Did not know that. Did not know the difference between a crow and raven either. I thought it was an interchangeable term." Alisha was still staring out the window.

Hermione felt compelled to inform, as per usual. "Umm, all ravens are crows, but all crows aren't ravens. Crow, or corvid, is a family of birds; magpies and jays belong to it too. Ravens are typically larger, prefer solitude and live an average of twenty two years longer than the eight year lifespan of a crow. Some say they are much smarter than crows. I agree."

"Who uses a raven, Boss? Who was that parcel from?" One of Alisha's hands rested on her hip, the other moved to push her spectacles back.

Hermione shook her head sadly; she had wanted to avoid this sort of situation. She opened a drawer to remove her wand as she replied, "Someone who knows owls are conspicuous in day time. Someone smart enough to train a raven."

Alisha was about to launch into another barrage of questions, Hermione knew, considering her inquisitiveness outranked her personal boundaries. Hermione cared deeply for the girl, but she was wary of the gossip queen on their floor. So Hermione reluctantly did what she had to; _Obliviated_ Alisha and _Mobilicorpused_her back to her desk. When the girl came to in a few minutes, she would think she had fallen asleep there. Hermione felt remorse, but this was important, and she _had_asked Alisha to leave.

Locking her door, Hermione grimaced as she pricked her finger with a sterile pin. The large envelope's seal required her blood to confirm the receiver's identity. As a drop pooled on the yellow seal, the parcel fell open and a note floated out onto her desk.

_The debt is paid._

Hermione nodded. "That it is."

She carefully examined and locked the contents of the parcel in a box that she warded with her considerable skills, finally placing it in her safe.

~0~

Ginny wanted to go shopping with Hermione as they both needed new dress robes to wear at the wedding- a plan that Hermione had innocuously thwarted, wary of the developing curves in her body. Instead, the following Saturday she embarked on a mission to locate a dress that concealed her barely observable pregnancy. Her breasts were firmer, more generously endowed, lending her a more dramatic cleavage than she could have revealed seven weeks ago, if she were the type to. Ideally, Hermione would have liked to flaunt her gently rounding tummy in an adorable maternity dress, but perhaps now wasn't the time.

_Soon enough. _She sighed with a smile. Her hand reached out to rub her abdomen, but walking on the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, she caught herself. Wouldn't do to give away her secrets with her body language.

Shopping was not Hermione's favorite means to pass time. Yes, she enjoyed well-tailored robes, but she couldn't claim to benefit from habitual retail-therapy as much as say, Lavender, or even to some extent, Ginny. There was much too much to do, learn, know and edify. Hopefully, she would find a suitable dress in an appropriate amount of time.

Providentially, just the second boutique Hermione's crossed had on its display a loose fitting, flowing chiffon dress that caught her eye and imagination. A delightful champagne-pink gown, unstructured in its wispy layers and dreamy hi-lo flounce hem, it seemed to float around her body as she tried it on- undoubtedly charmed. The delicate chiffon straps flattered her graceful neck and shoulders while showing off her toned arms. The modest neckline hinted alluringly at a cleavage, distracting the focus from the layers that managed to conceal her rounded abdomen. The hem fell diagonally just below her knees to display her shapely calves, hiding the back of her knees that were developing unsightly varicose veins. The pale pink soothed her, and if colour therapy had any credence, the light pink would supposedly inspire love. Hermione could use Love.

Heck, she'd even take lust.

Both her healer and her doctor had acknowledged it was perfectly healthy to feel and give in to desire, but Draco had been extremely nervous in the beginning, worrying about the baby, worrying about her. It had taken a lace teddy to get him to realize she was still very much a woman- if anything, a woman with raging hormones. Maybe it was instinctive- evolution encouraging her to bond further with the father of her child to secure a more stable environment for the future of the genetic vehicle.

_Evolution sucks!_

Every time Draco did something thoughtful, it took immense resolve to not blurt out that she was irreversibly in love with him. He was so tender, so gentle when he touched her that it broke her heart. He would hold her like she was a butterfly in his hands- beautiful and fragile. She saw his snowstorm-eyes turn to charcoal when he neared her; felt his breath on her nape, her increasingly sensitive skin, and then he'd back off. He would drive her insane with the frustration of denied passions and then when she begged him, he would slow down even further, to a torturous pace. He'd whisper her name and look into her eyes, as she would start to fall… and then he'd close his eyes and join her.

It was at this time, when she gasped his name that she struggled to not sob that she loved him, to not whisper that she had always loved him, to sigh that she would always love him.

He would fall asleep by her side, spent, beautiful and unaware. Draco was hers for now. Why did that feel like poor consolation when Brian knocked on her door?

The British wedding party was convening at The Burrow to take multiple Portkeys to the chateau in the south of France. Brian complimented Hermione on her looks and she graciously thanked him. She smiled at the gentleman at her proverbial porch, feeling guilty that she wished it were someone else. She felt like throwing up. Maybe Portkey was not the best option for her. Maybe she could beg to Floo?

_Oh, they all pretty much suck! _

She shrugged before touching the silver platter that transported her to the French chateau. Brian had tucked her hand into his arm and she was grateful for it's support as she landed onto the estate's grounds. His strong arm lent her support as she regained her balance in her impractical heels and Hermione raised her kohl-lined eyes to thank him.

As much as she might lament the dating arrangement, her mother had taught her excellent manners and Hermione planned to be an attentive escort. It wasn't a struggle with Brian, considering how Hermione genuinely respected his opinions and found his out-of-the-box thinking quite refreshing. His Irish sense of humour tickled hers and she found that laughing with him was all too easy on a gorgeous spring day, in the picturesque French countryside. Mingling pleasantly with the other guests, Hermione felt lighter, calmer, like she didn't have a care in the world. Till she felt a change in her aura that made the hair at her nape stand. She turned around and wasn't surprised to see Draco, a stunning Pansy afflicting/ gracing his side. His magnificent form in the regal dress robes made her catch her breath, but no one would know that.

Pansy was no longer a 'pug-face'. _Illusion charm?_ Hermione thought unkindly as she waved a friendly hello at the handsome couple_. 'Couple'? Shudder. _ She resumed her conversation with Brian and ignored Draco thereafter. This was Draco's choice, his plan. She'd play along. Not that he seemed to notice.

Harry strolled over while she was chatting with some of Ron's teammates and hugged her gently.

"Ron's asking for you."

Hermione made her excuses and ambled along Harry, towards the chateau. She felt the strangest sense of loss. It was embarrassing to admit to herself that Ron had been her Plan 'B'. Not a plan she was particularly proud of, moreover, one she had considered moot a long time ago. If things hadn't worked out with another, for either of them, Ron and Hermione may have ended up together in an alternate world. She wasn't passionately in love with him, still, they had shared a _type_ of love through their adolescent lives. That counted for _some_thing. They _could _have been sort of happy together.

No, Hermione was less than pleased with her self, but she _always _had a Plan 'B', so she tried to suppress the guilt. Besides, she was genuinely glad for the ecstatic couple. That helped.

Lost in thought, Hermione accidentally walked into a chair that bumped her tummy. Alarmed, Hermione touched her womb protectively, an action that did not go unnoticed by Harry. He raised an eyebrow and Hermione blushed as she looked away to find Draco's eyes trained on her, his expression blank. She nodded once to let him know she was fine before she entered through the majestic manor.

Harry noticed the small exchanged but expressed neither pleasure nor censure. Hermione bit back the anxiety that threatened to assail her all too often these days. She did what she wanted, she always had, but Harry's approval was important to her. To not have it, immediately and unconditionally, stung. It had since school. So, when he spoke after a few awkward moments, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

"Congratulations, Hermione." He kept a gentle hand on the small of her back as they ascended the grand marble staircase.

Hermione softly mumbled her thank you.

"How far along are you?" Harry gazed at her concealed abdomen.

"About seven weeks," Hermione replied as they reached a landing, pausing beside Harry who had turned to look at her.

Hesitantly, he brought his hand forward towards her belly, "Can I?"

Hermione slowly brought his hand to envelope her gently rounded tummy. They stood quietly, just like that, for a while. She knew Harry was probably sending in some kind of protection spells or, at the very least, some Ki. Harry had become adept at healing energy work.

He raised his head after a minute to ask, "How are you doing? How is the baby doing?"

"We're both fine Harry. Draco is taking excellent care of us."

Harry looked away, but one of his hands stayed on her back as they continued forward.

"Are you happy?" he asked as they stood outside a massive, carved wooden door.

Hermione smiled wistfully. "I am. I truly am, Harry. You haven't seen this side of him. I can't explain it to you. He's another person with me. You can't imagine how different."

Harry looked down at his shoes. "I just hope he can take care of you."

Hermione laid her hand on her best friend's arm. "He can Harry, at times he beats my mother at it."

"Do your parents know?" Harry had his head tilted to a side, deliberating each word and each response.

"No, not yet. I think I'll break it to them slowly. Tell them about Draco first… make it sound like a relationship, so it's not entirely a shock."

Harry nodded sagely. "That's probably best for Draco's health. Your father may not know magic, and he may be a thorough gentleman, but if he were to find the terms of your arrangement, Draco might find his delicate nose broken in several places."

He grinned. "Come to think of it, I think I'll pay your dad a visit."

Hermione nudged his side in mock disapproval as Harry knocked on the door before entering. "You decent in there, mate?"

Ron bade them to enter, as Fred and George, who had been waiting with him, turned to leave.

"You owe me five galleons Gred," one of the twins claimed, commencing a repartee that was uniquely their own.

"They aren't married yet. If ever there were a cause for a runaway bride, there's one today. It's our Won Won we are talking about, after all."

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins, we'll go keep a lookout near Elma's room."

"Yeah, if she runs, you'll be the first to know. We'll smuggle some food up. No need to starve just because the wedding's off."

"Those pastries looked mighty good, didn't they Forge! Maybe if the wedding's cancelled, half the guests will leave…"

"… and we'll have to step in to avoid the colossal waste of food. You think that lot will fit in our combined pantries?"

The two looked around, in mock surprise at their audience's disapproving faces. "You all, don't tell mum we were in the kitchens already."

"She'll have our hides." They spoke together.

Harry shook his head good naturedly. "Excellent pep talk, mates."

A flushed Ron piped in, "Who needs enemies when they can have the beastly twins for family? Even that poltergeist Peeves would make a better brother! Off you go, shift it. Hermione, thank Merlin you are here! I might need your help in warding these clowns out."

Hermione felt her heart overflow with fondness, Ron looked so handsome in his groom's robes. She walked over and hugged her childhood friend, confidant, crush and co-combatant, feeling nothing but pure platonic love for this gentle giant of a man. Ron was everything she could have asked for in a friend: loyal, caring, intelligent, humorous, sensitive. Hmm, a wild swing between extremes of sensitive and insensitive? Maybe that was the reason things hadn't worked out? Draco's cool ways intrigued her while Ron's volatility exasperated her. She had fancied herself in love with Ron for a few years in school; then Draco had walked into Grimmauld Place, shattering previously held notions of adolescent puppy love.

Hermione censured her thoughts, this was Ron's day, she ought to be thinking about him. "How do you feel, Ron?"

The groom shook his head in disgust. "After time alone with those two? Absolutely ghastly! They nearly convinced me that El had run off." He winced.

Hermione rubbed her friend's shoulder as she tried to assuage his nerves. "Don't worry Ron, it's plain to see that she adores you. She's not going anywhere. How about you? No jitters here, I hope?"

Ron beamed. "Never surer, Mione. Elma is perfect, or at least that's what she likes to tell me." He rolled his eyes and then glanced out the window as something caught his eye outside. Turning back, he picked up his glass of Firewhiskey and took a sip. "Have you found your 'perfection' yet? How are things going with that Brian bloke?"

Askance, Hermione noticed Harry studying her. "Err, all right, I suppose. I'm afraid we are far from perfect for each other. Don't get me wrong, he is intelligent, an absolute gentleman, has a fantastic sense of humour. Somehow, something still doesn't fit." Hermione raised her hands in defence. "I know, I know, I am unreasonable in my expectations. I already got an earful from Ginny about that."

Ron tilted his head. "Was just planning to tell you to trust your instincts, Mione. You know what you are doing. Whatever you do, whoever you chose, your friends will support you, you know that."

Astonished at the strange assertion, Hermione first studied Ron's smug face and then stole a glance at Harry, who had hastily masked his surprise. He shrugged.

Ron seemed amused at the silent communiqué. "Mione, come here, I want to show you something." Hermione followed Ron to the antique crystal French doors that led to a balcony overlooking the grounds. "These Omnioculars have proved quite entertaining, one of the few good ideas Fred had today. I have been watching a very interesting game of chess being played out there on the lawn for a while now. See that reflective surface in the sea of people there, head shiny as a chocolate wrapper? That's Draco. He has been avoiding you all afternoon. You've kept out of reach, as well. Haven't even bothered to say hello, have you? Isn't like you two at all. I've been watching you both butt heads since Grimmauld place, and this isn't how you relate. Something is brewing and it doesn't feel like a squabble. If you'd been bickering, he would have tried to bait you into another spat, even enjoyed the audience. You on the other hand, if you're fighting with friends, you get twitchy, haughty or morose. Yet you look calm. Something doesn't fit."

Hermione squirmed, sure the blush covering her head to toe, gave her away.

Draco had been right about their body language! They hadn't even spoken and Ron had arrived at a very intuitive assumption. How many others had noticed the subtle deviations from their usual behaviour?

Ron's eyes twinkled with amusement as he put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "I haven't had much to do here, have I? So, I've been watching people. Don't worry, you haven't made it obvious or anything. It's just that I know you two a touch better than the wedding guests. Wandering in jungles in bare essentials would do that to anyone, I reckon. I know Draco's body language is usually deliberately misleading, I've learnt his tells over the years. To anyone else, it would be like Draco was ignoring you, but I know you two are like magnets, you attract or repel, you don't co-exist. What's going on, then?"

Hermione worried her bottom lip, decided to brave it, started, "Ron, we, eh…" and trailed off.

Having grown up with the Wizarding World's somewhat traditional values, Ron Weasley tended to harbour rather conservative sensibilities. Harry, having been exposed to Muggle culture, was not as scandalised at the idea of unwed mothers. Ron, however, belonged to a society where a sans-matrimony pregnancy was almost always a precursor to rushed matrimony. Hermione didn't consider _that _a strong foundation for a life-long relationship, though she supposed she could empathise with the witch's predicament. She knew that some babies turned up at Ashram because the mother was probably a teenager, who would otherwise be castigated by her family and society.

No, Ron would not be receptive to the details of her agreement. Ron's protective side might surface in a volcano of fury that would scathe both her and Draco. Hermione thus opted to remain quiet, letting him draw his own conclusions. It prevented her having to lie.

Tired of waiting for a response, Ron persisted, "Since when has this been going on? Why didn't you tell me? Harry, you knew?"

Hermione's gaze was still trained on Draco, who turned to scan the balcony behind which the trio stood. She doubted he could see into the house, but he continued to eye the area, as if aware of being watched.

"New Year's. We've been seeing each other since then." She used her quiet voice.

Ron jerked Hermione around to face him. "Five months! Merlin! Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Harry take one step closer, though she stayed him with a gesture. Ron wasn't angry, he was confused. Hermione looked straight into Ron's injured eyes. This part she could be honest about. "I was afraid of what you would think, how you would react."

Ron nodded, calming himself down. "That, I can understand, I suppose. I'm not chuffed to bits that you're seeing him. I mean, I'd rather you were with a more agreeable fellow. Still, I can't say I am mad, or surprised."

Hermione stared at her friend in bewilderment.

Ron noticed her reaction, "Well, you're with him an awful lot, aren't you? At any fancy event, we just assume you will come together. I was actually surprised I didn't see you with him today, it's what got me paying more attention to you two. Then there's him. Whenever Malfoy and I meet on a Quidditch tour somewhere, he seems to know about what's going on with you. He is more in touch with your life now than I am. You were the only one he got half-decent to at Grimmauld's Place, and considering your Muggle back-ground, that was strikingly odd. He couldn't keep his eyes off you in the forests. Almost punched him a couple of times, but Harry here stopped me. Was surprised you didn't start dating in that last year of school, really. Too much of a ferret, still, I reckoned and thanked the stars for your good sense. Now? Well, if you aren't seeing anyone else, I figure you could do worse... if you tried really, really hard. I'll admit Draco's not the wanker he used to be in school. Don't get me wrong, he's still a git, but at least he isn't blinkered with that pureblood nonsense anymore. We all li… eh, tolerate him well enough now. He has proved that he's an okay chap, and Merlin knows he's fit and loaded. We've known him long enough, so there shouldn't be many more surprises. I figure there's nothing to be scared of, except, of course, your own taste in blokes."

Hermione and Harry stared at Ron in disbelief. In this moment, it was clear how much Elma's stabilising presence had mellowed Ron. Before Elma, this incident would have had the potential to morph into a full-scale war.

Ron raised his brows in question. "What? You thought I'd go mental? Punch him, maybe?" Ron smiled dreamily. "As nice as that sounds, I don't see the harm in giving him a go. What I don't understand is why you've come here with different people. Why not go public?"

Hermione felt a twinge of … regret? She wanted to tell the world, but Draco didn't. _Definitely not safe to tell Ron that._ "Eh, we're not ready for that, yet. We like our privacy."

"We or he?" Ron's intuition was right on the mark again.

"Uh, both of us. It's been a strange ride, we'd rather not have to combust in front of the public eye, you know." Hermione turned to look at Harry who was fiddling with a snow globe on the mahogany desk, his thoughts masked.

Ron, on the other hand, seemed to have no trouble hiding his sentiments. "Yeah, I reckon if I was in a relationship with that ferret, I'd be ashamed to admit it too."

"Ronald!"

"What? I'm allowed that much. Now, has that basta… git told you that you look just lovely today?"

"Thanks, eh… you know we haven't spoken today. Brian has though."

"Good for him. I like him more and more, with each day. Wish I could say the same about our royal arseness."

"Ronald!"

"All right, all right, keep your wand arm where I can see it. I just need to know that the bloody Slytherin can treat our girl properly, the way she deserves."

Ron ruffled her hair, which probably messed her carefully styled tresses, but she couldn't find the heart to object. The affectionate habit reminded her of older times that she missed.

"He is taking exceptional care of me, Ron. I was just telling Harry that."

"About that, Harry, you and I need to talk, mate. Why didn't you tell me about this the _moment _you knew?"

Hermione interceded, "I'm sorry Ron, that's on me. He guessed because he started sensing auras. He cheated really. I wasn't going to tell him for a while, either."

Ron pretended to look crestfallen. "How you break our hearts, woman! And here we thought we were your best friends in the entire Wizarding world!"

Grinning, Hermione knocked his head with the back of her hand. "Don't get theatrical with me Won-Won. You _are_ my best friends in the entire world, and you know it!"

Ron caught her hand in his. "Don't forget that, Mione. If that excuse of a Quidditch player ever as much as sneezes on you, you let us know, right? There are still some pub brawls that need avenging." He pointed meaningfully at a scar that went through the cleft of his chin.

Hermione nodded, touched, that on his own wedding day, her friend had taken the time and effort to address her emotional needs. She felt lucky. She felt loved. In this room were the two people who had seen her through the insanity of adolescence. They had been there for each other, thick and thin, sickness and health, and she hoped, she fervently hoped, that nothing would ever drive a wedge into their friendship till death did them part.

Which reminded her, "Ron, have you revised your vows? I thought it was adorable that you both decided to write your own. Do you want to practice them?"

"Vows? VOWS? Bollocks! Write me something nice won't you Hermione? You are so brilliant with a quill. Harry, you probably know it best, how _do_ I feel about Elma?"

~0~

Soon, it was time for the wedding and the violin quartet started. A delightful little flower girl was followed by three exquisite part-Veela bridesmaids. A young boy, not yet fifteen, jumped across their path, asking one of them, _any_ of them to marry him today too. Once the alarm settled, the coughs and giggles started. The boy's embarrassed father quickly dragged him away. The breathtakingly beautiful bride walked down the aisle with her father.

Ron looked incredulously happy, gazing lovingly at the only woman in the world he had eyes for. Even though Ron's vows were impromptu, a garden gnome could sense that they were completely heartfelt. The rite was so touching that Hermione shed some ever-ready tears trying to wipe them discreetly. Alas, there was no way for her to escape Brian's notice. He handed her a clean handkerchief and she was grateful for his indulgent smile. He put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her closer to him. The warmth felt good. Maybe, if she had met Brian before her agreement with Draco commenced, they could have had something good. Not mind-blowing or heart wrenching, but something homely and heart-warming, good nevertheless.

Hermione sighed. Now, she understood why some single women went barmy on weddings. It was quite natural- this urge to belong to someone, to have someone belong only to you.

Feeling light-headed, Hermione leaned against Brian's shoulder. She felt the hair at the back of her nape stand and turned toward the rows behind to meet stone-cold slate eyes. She looked away. Nothing to feel guilty about. This was Draco's idea. He wanted it this way. She wasn't doing anything objectionable, just enjoying a very nice man's company. Was it so selfish to accept proffered comfort? She wasn't technically flirting with Brian, she just wasn't deflecting his advances. Could an arm around a shoulder even be considered an advance, in this day and age? Perhaps. Hermione straightened to unwind herself from his embrace and smiled to soften the blow. He smiled back and straightened too, kissing her forehead before he eased back.

Hermione groaned inwardly. _Right._ _So_, _that's why Draco has been glaring bloody murder._

Brian was possibly reading more into this date than there ever could be for Hermione. Draco paid attention to the little cues of body language that escaped the common individual; he would have garnered Brian's interest at first sight. She'd have to maintain her distance from Brian. Emotional and physical. For all their sakes.

As soon as the couple was pronounced man and wife, and it was decent to do so, Hermione excused herself to use the loo. Frequent bladder emptying was another charming concomitant of pregnancy.

She walked into the fairytale-castle-like chateau, her heels daring to disturb the ageless serenity of the hushed halls. Searching for the toilet, she had just turned a corner when she got pulled, none-to- gently, into a dark niche. The alcove held a large, cold marble sculpture, one of a sensually draped, well-muscled man.

"What the fuck are you playing at, Granger?"

* * *

Your thoughts are most welcome and highly appreciated.


	32. The Reception

**Betaing by the very thorough, very talented ****Margaritama. She corrected, cajoled and inspired to render this chapter a much-improved read. If you still haven't read her fics, go now! Really! (If you are old enough to read MA!) This woman is BRASSY, FUNNY AND INSIGHTFUL. And CAN she write Draco! _Phew!_**

As always, I make changes to the chapter after the betaing, so any mistakes are mine, mine, mine!

**Disclaimer: Phrase "matchmaking skills occult" from Jane Austin's priceless _Pride and Prejudice. Though I have tweaked it to 'matchmaking __instincts'.  
HP? Still JKR's.  
Draco? He has escaped. Let's see who catches him first._**

**Thanking all the reviewers (HUGS), all those who marked me in their**** favourites (YAY!) and all those who return to read****(Yippee!) I wonder though… how to convert all readers into reviewers? Any ideas?**

My sincere gratitude to the readers who took the extra time to encourage!

* * *

**Previously on HB:She walked into the fairytale-like chateau, her heels daring to disturb the ageless serenity of the hushed halls. Searching for the toilet, she had just turned a corner when she got pulled, none-to- gently, into a dark niche. The alcove held a larger-than-life, cold-as-ice marble sculpture- one of a sensually draped man muscled in all the right places.**

"What the fuck are you playing at, Granger?"

* * *

**The Reception**

The whiff of mountain air, the heated touch, the icy voice- Hermione would have recognised the knee-weakening combination blindfolded. That weighed heavily on her intelligent mind. She had to learn to emotionally distance herself from him. Need him less, want him less.

"What are you on about, Draco?" Hermione struggled to extricate her arm from his tight hold, but he did not relent. His white-hot eyes scorched her and she felt herself flush.

"Could you flirt with dear Brian any more?" he drawled, his tone derisive.

Hermione squared her shoulders as well as she could, pinned against the cold wall. "You didn't want our body language to give us away. I can solemnly swear that my body language is not giving our agreement away. However, this tryst in the alcoves could seriously jeopardize the secrecy of it all. So, shoo now, be a good boy."

Unamused by her flippancy, Draco's eyes went icy, his face harder than the inanimate marble statue. "Granger, tell me, why delude the poor soul? Fancy playing with young men's emotions, do you? I thought you were done with that remarkable hobby."

Her hair crackled with electricity, as Hermione's chin jutted out. "I am doing nothing wrong. I'm living my life independent of you. You wanted that. We aren't a couple; we are the co-executors of a mutually beneficial plan. Don't worry; I remember the terms of our agreement clearly. Now, let go of my arm. Right. Now."

Exhaling slowly, Draco let her arm fall and Hermione rubbed at it. There would be a bruise tomorrow, she was sure. _The flea-infested, snot-covered mangy troll! Who does he think he is?_

"What do you want, Hermione?" Draco asked, exasperated. "You want to tell the world? The French side of the Malfoy family is in attendance at this wedding. It is indeed a small world." His hand raked through his hair. "Some of my more charming relatives are Pureblood zealots. A Veela was tolerated, albeit erased from the family tree, but Muggle lines will not be accepted with open arms. What happens when they, and other insane fascists, discover you are with my child? Are you prepared to face their wrath and all the possible consequences?"

Vehemence mounting, Hermione looked him squarely in the eye. "What were you planning, Malfoy? Hiding me under a Burqha for the next seven months? Was this your grand scheme? Produce an heir and hide the inconvenient mother- the inconvenient, Mudblood mistress."

A loud cracking noise behind Hermione had her jerk in surprise at the sonic jolt. The marble sculpture's head slid off, landing noisily before rolling away like a ball. Draco hadn't moved. Hands clenched into fists at his side, nostrils flared, Draco stood eerily still, eyes lit ablaze in a fury the likes of which she had never witnessed there before, not once in eight years.

"Are you out of your senses, woman?" Draco spoke very, very quietly. No, Draco didn't shout when he seethed. He became treacherously, deceptively quiet.

His hand came forward to clench her roughly forward, closer, till she smelled the Firewhiskey on his breath, the musk of his body, felt the tremor of his hold. _Lightening at dusk, her passive mind observed. __His eyes, when he is livid- like b__olts of lightening spearing through imprudent skies to punish the unrepentant, unpardonable earth._

"You _think I want you on another man's side? You __think, Granger, that I don't want to announce to the world that you are __mine? You. Are. Mine. And. I. Don't. Share." Hermione quaked in tempo with each heavy word, Draco's pulsating body betraying the manic fury his tone cloaked._

"It is so _easyto strike the magic out of your darling Brian. A flick of a finger, I wouldn't need a wand. I could have him writhing in pain, begging for mercy." Draco's eyes lapsed into a glossy, faraway gaze. For the first time in her life, Hermione felt fear in Draco's presence. She had never feared him before, but this man… he was bridled violence, apathetic brutality. Draco shook his head, noticed her expression, abruptly dropped her arm and stepped back._

Hermione rubbed her other arm gingerly, trying to shake off her alarm, trying to understand it all, trying to understand him. She would have _twobruises tomorrow!_

"Then why, Draco? Why do we have to have a conversation tucked away in a recess? Why aren't I your date to the wedding? It's not like we didn't know that the Purebloods would object before we started. You had time to think. What is the obstacle, now?"

Draco, who had been staring at the severed head of the maimed statue, trained his steely eyes onto her again, but his gaze seemed to go right through. "The obstacle is Harry sodding Potter!"

Hermione gasped, "Draco, what on earth are you on about? I just spoke to Harry. He was very supportive about our baby, in fact, more so than I could have hoped. Ron figured something was on between us, too. Even he encouraged me to give you a go, though he prays for my taste in men to improve."

Draco closed his eyes fleetingly. He inspected his ridiculously expensive shoes, head hanging, and then as if exhausted from his paroxysm, raised his eyes wearily; they were calmer now, focussed again. "Potter doesn't want us in the limelight. There's some _sick shitgoing on and he'd rather keep you away from preventable threats. He isn't sure I can protect you alone." Draco spat the last part out._

Hermione's hand went to her stomach protectively. "Draco, is our baby in danger?"

She could not shake off the harsh grip of anxiety that seized her. They had lost so many to the cause- dearly loved friends, irreplaceable family members. Surely, it could not all have been in vain? Surely, the future generation would not have to face the demons of discrimination and ethnic cleansing?

Draco sighed and tentatively reached for Hermione's hand. That she didn't back away from his touch seemed to help ground him further. "Mi, I shouldn't have said that." His hand went towards her womb where he placed it, his eyes softened considerably. "Our baby is safe, I'll make sure of it. There is no imminent danger, but there are rumours. Potter does not want this to spread but, perhaps, it is best you know. Certain circles are abuzz with conspiracy theories- that the vampire infraction was no coincidence, but was deliberately created to rebel against the Australian Ministry. There are talks of dissention against other ministries as well. Don't fret over this, but I do need you to be on guard. You're already such a high profile target for these nutters. You and Potter, put together, pretty much represent the British Ministry. Add a Malfoy baby to the mix and you move up a spot to replace Harry, as their prime target. It is too complicated at present, for me to feel at ease about antagonising Potter, the vampires _andthe world. I would rather the world just ignore us for a bit. Can you understand that?"_

Hermione nodded sombrely, "How did you hear about this, Draco? What does Harry think about the whole situation?"

Letting go of Hermione's hand as he stepped back, Draco Accioed the sculpture's severed head. "I travel a fair bit, have ears in places that are paid to keep me informed. Potter is in favour of keeping our relationship covert for a while. I would have sealed his lips like old Arbraxas' painting, for daring to intrude, if I didn't essentially agree with him. He's told me innumerable times that I have wretched timing, that I ought have waited for things to settle down first. You could not have failed to notice the increased security he has placed around your home?"

"I wondered about catching glimpses of Aurors more frequently these days. But Draco, I wasn't asking what Harry thought about _us, I meant to ask about his thoughts regarding the vampire situation. Why haven't the other departments been informed? Why aren't we on raised alert levels? People should know, be prepared!"_

Quiet for a few moments, Draco charmed the marble head back on, leaving the statue pristine as before. "There isn't any concrete proof, Hermione, and very few leads. If we act prematurely, then we risk exposing our inside sources, who will be neutralised."

Hermione's jaw dropped. Neutralised? How easily he talked about people being murdered. She heard footsteps approaching around the corner. "I really need to use the loo. Besides, I think we have both been missing too long. We don't want people to wonder."

Annoyance flicked over Draco's face briefly before his indifferent mask settled once more. He walked away from the alcove and the approaching footsteps, leaving Hermione feeling apprehensive, confused and very nearly overwhelmed.

Traipsing back through the gorgeous gardens, Hermione was examining the implications of Draco's revelation, when one of the catering staff offered her an array of hors d'œuvres. Hermione smiled and thanked the young girl, picking up a bite-sized Amuse-Bouche.

A frown, tilt of head, scrutiny and surprised smile later, the girl exclaimed, "Madame Smith?"

_Smith? __Uh-huh._

It took Hermione a moment to recall that on their weekend getaway to the quaint French village, the residents had known her as the honeymooning Mrs. Smith. Hermione usually didn't abuse, but this was just the perfect moment to start! It begged some hearty, mind-numbingly offensive vocabulary that would vent her frustration!

In broken English, Gabrielle introduced herself. With much waving of the free arm, she continued to gush enthusiastically- she had been on vacation in her hometown when the Smiths had arrived, stirring up the old gossip network in the sleepy village. Hermione didn't know how to react. Should she presume ignorance and pretend to be someone else? Consequently, if the girl saw Draco, her suspicions would be confirmed that Hermione had lied. There would be no surer way to have the kitchens rife with gossip. Alternatively, if Hermione just went along, maybe, just maybe, it would stay at that? Perhaps the French girl would think or say no more of it?

Hermione decided to follow a middle path. She smiled as if confused, thanked Gabrielle in a farce of broken French. As politely as she could, Hermione pointed out to Gabrielle a man standing behind them, obviously waiting for the appetisers. Reminded of her duties, Gabrielle nodded shyly and resumed her task.

Before leaving, the girl turned to ask if Monsieur Smith was present amongst the guests. Hermione courteously nodded yes, without saying much. The girl's cheeks pinked. She walked away hastily, no doubt hoping to catch a glimpse of the fetching Monsieur!

More than a little shaken by her various encounters today, Hermione returned to the party, a faint shadow of her former charismatic self. She had missed the toasts from the bride's side. Her absence had gone mercifully unnoticed, according to Brian, who must have discerned her discomfort from her subdued appearance. He asked her if she was well and she replied that she felt a stomach-flu stirring. It was as close an approach to the truth as she could afford.

From then on, she made sure to keep Brian at an arm's distance. It would do no good to have him presume a bond that did not exist. It would also be disastrous for Gabrielle to see the _newly wedMadame flirting with another man. Hermione needed to warn Draco to not get too chummy with Pansy._

_Oh, joy!_

Ron and Elma descended for their first dance and several couples joined them. Hermione scanned the floor and beyond for Draco's distinct form, finding Pansy's attached to it. They were swaying gently in the far corner of the glass floor, a striking pair. The glow from underneath the glass was contributed by the Willow o' Wisps that usually guarded the French family's treasure. Hermione quickly inspected the gathering for Gabrielle, who seemed auspiciously absent.

At a snail's pace, Hermione made her way towards a group of girls that was standing just off the dance floor, some of them openly ogling at Draco. Elma's and Fleur's cousins and young friends comprised the assemblage. Hermione had become friendly with some of them over the years and hadn't had the opportunity to greet them yet, so it provided her the perfect excuse. Eventually, Hermione found a moment to break away from the girls just as Draco and Pansy got off the floor.

She approached them slowly. Hermione got along well enough with the affable Blaise and Astoria; Pansy however, had never bypassed the boundaries of unconcerned acquaintance.

"Parkinson, how are you? Stunning robe." Hermione couldn't bring herself to call Pansy's skin-tight, flamboyant massacre of leather and silver 'beautiful'.

Turning a condescending eye towards Hermione's less flashy gown, Pansy nodded imperiously. "Granger. Doing well, I presume?"

Through with their quota for civil conversation for the day, Hermione turned to Draco. "Hello Draco, how have you been?"

Noticing Pansy's arched eyebrow and Draco's impassive face, Hermione realised her error. Maybe Draco had mentioned to Pansy that they had bumped in the chateau? This scheming and hiding was getting out of hand. Hermione was tired of constantly watching her words and her back. She let her annoyance surface with her clipped tone, "Malfoy, I need to talk to you about the warden at the Sanctuary." Out of inbred courtesy, she addressed Pansy, "Do you mind if I steal him for a minute?"

Pansy's face curled into a sarcastic smile. "_Borrowhim for a minute, Granger? Sure, be my guest. Make sure he gets back to me, won't you? Draco has this odd manner of losing himself, in a crowd. Very easily led astray, this one." Pansy turned her well-painted face towards Draco, dragging a long, red nail across his arm. "That wouldn't do anyone any good, would it, darling? Though, I gather you know a thing or two about being lost too?" Pansy's muddy brown eyes found Hermione again. "Draco mentioned he had to rescue you from the maze of the chateau passages. It happens… the sheer magnitude can be daunting for those not used to larger spaces."_

Hermione bristled. She was about to unsheathe her retort about the small spaces Pansy's extended family now inhabited in Azkaban, when Draco interrupted. "Let's find a quieter place to discuss work, Granger. The music's too loud here." The warning in Draco's eyes was evident. Hermione felt betrayed. Draco had stood by and let Pansy have her entertainment at Hermione's expense.

When they were at a reasonable distance from prying ears, Draco slowed down and said softly, "She was just baiting you, Mi. You know that, right?"

Hermione refused to be drawn into discussing Pansy. No good could come from it. Instead, she coldly informed Draco about the French girl who had recognised _Mrs. __Smith. Providentially, right then, Hermione saw Gabrielle circulating champagne among guests. With any luck, she ought have seen the __Smithstogether. Draco's hand raked through his hair. He nodded and walked away, thankfully, not back towards Pansy's possessive clutches. Hermione saw him make his way towards Ron's Quidditch mates, while she returned to the big group of ex-Gryffindors that currently held Brian a participant._

The afternoon proceeded at a finicky pace. The buffet lunch was served and every one had their fill of the delectable cuisine. Hermione ate the little she could and drank copious amounts of fresh alkaline juices. So did Luna, who was glowingly pregnant and proudly showing her slight bulge in her adorable maternity dress. Neville was playing the ever-doting husband, taking notice of each gesture, each sigh, pulling chairs, fetching desserts or whatever took Luna's fancy. Everyone treated the three-month pregnant Luna with such special regard, that it was beautiful to witness. If they were half as kind to Hermione when they found out about her pregnancy, she would be infinitely grateful.

Hermione was tired, worried, miserable, and achy. She couldn't announce her news, so she felt just a little envious of Luna's liberated behaviour and Neville's demonstrations. She consoled herself that Harry and Ron were being supportive. Those revelations had gone much better than expected. The next step was to get her parents on board.

Her head ached with facts and possibilities mulling around at lightning speed. She apologised to Brian for her worsening health and impending absence, and headed once more to the chateau to seek an empty room, a solitary escape. She lay down, after setting an alarm on her wand. Sleep would not come, but it was restful nevertheless, to be free from the tiring demands of crucial pretences.

About half an hour had passed when Hermione heard footfall outside her door and decided to rise. She suppressed the little twinge of misery that Draco had not found the time nor inclination, to check on her. Pretences were paramount, she reminded herself.

Washing her face, freshening her make-up and taming her hair, Hermione decided to give her spirit a makeover too. _Enough with the self-pity, she determined. She had made her bed and would lay in it, wand under pillow. Putting on the face of __theHermione Jane Granger, the formidable witch the world knew, she headed out. Feeling more like herself, than she had in a week, Hermione walked out to the garden to find guests preparing to leave for the Burrow. Brian was talking animatedly with Padma, Parvati and Parvati's husband Raj._

Brain's face broke into a smile, "Hermione, I was just coming to look for you. Feeling better?"

They all chatted pleasantly for a while. Even a preoccupied Hermione could not miss the sparks beginning to fly between Brian and Padma. Ginny's matchmaking instincts were almost occult! Hermione smiled at Parvati as they exchanged knowing glances and gently manipulated Raj away to another group, leaving Padma and Brian alone- a gesture neither missed nor condemned by Brian, considering the surprise on his face and the accepting shrug that followed.

Most of the guests organised themselves into phalanxes around designated Portkeys, destined for the reception at the new venue. The renovated Burrow stood gorgeous and proud, festively decorated and lit to mark the special occasion. The huge lawn was set up with cabanas and enormous tents, where dinner was served and ceremonial dancing was eagerly participated in. Alcohol of myriad varieties made the night jollier than it may have, perhaps, been sans it.

Fred and George, much to their mother's shocked dismay, had laid a minefield of pranks that the unwary walked upon with reckless naïveté. Amusingly or regrettably, depending on whom you asked, Pansy was one of them. She walked under a lamp that chose that very moment to erupt into a volcano of marshmallow lava. The molten marshmallow caused irrevocable damage to her hair and dress, as Pansy stood rooted to the unfortunate spot- her facial expressions largely concealed under a thick film of pink goo.

Pansy's subsequent soliloquy of squeals and squeaks expressed a curious cocktail of wrath and disbelief. She glared at the snickering Weasley twins with her one unhindered eye, demonstrated a rude gesture of fingers, gave vent to some more choice expletives and stalked off toward the apparition point, a distinctly bland-faced Draco in pursuit.

Was that a wink she saw him pass in the twin's direction, before he vanished? Hermione wondered if Draco would return to the party, and was relieved when she caught a glimpse of him some ten minutes later. He resolutely stayed on the side of the tent occupied with increasingly inebriated, male-dominated company.

A respectable time after desserts were had, Ron and Elma were waved off in a shower of rice and cultivated Moonshine. The bouquet was caught enthusiastically, by one of Elma's younger bridesmaids. Hermione did not deem it worthy to stand in the row of eagerly competing females.

Slowly, after midnight, the revelry began to dwindle and guests began to leave, some carrying sleeping children in their tired arms. Percy also bid adieu so his family could 'retire at a decent hour.' Very courteously, Brian asked to be excused, as he had to rise early that Sunday morning for work.

Many of the Weasley children, along with little James, still ran around excitedly, thrilled to be allowed to stay up late with access to the outdoors.

It was nearing Two o'clock in the morning. Hermione had helped the Weasley women in clearing up till they chased her away, since she was visibly tired. Hermione found an empty chair next to Luna, while Neville lent his company to the progressively raucous group of ex-Gryffindors, and a patently amused but quiet Draco. The men sat drinking around a fire, singing loudly and very badly, Wizarding songs that had been popular in their school time.

Luna smiled at the group in affection, her mellifluous voice breaking the comfortable silence that had enveloped the two women. "It is funny, is it not, how men age backwards?"

Hermione inclined her head sideways, wondering what Luna was on about now. "How do you mean?"

"Look at them as they sit there, inhibitions floating away in the mid-summer night breeze. They seem to gain innocence as they gain years. It's as if they become more at ease with themselves and the people around. They finally allow their inner child to come out and play, with a little help. Maybe, though, it isn't the case with all men. Maybe, that's just the case with _thesemen." Luna seemed lost for a while. She sat gazing into the obscure shadows beyond, where crickets competed with the drunken outbursts of high-spirited men._

Hermione studied the men in question. Harry, Fred, George, Mr Weasley, Neville, Charlie, Bill and Draco - men she had grown up with and learnt to love as family.

Luna continued in her lyrical way, "Many of them didn't have the easiest childhood, did they? Now, they are finally learning to leave their monsters behind. They do need our support… it is hard for men to let go of their Chakra blockages. It takes much time and patience. And love, unending supplies to let them know it's not conditional."

Hermione mused on that for a bit. In her lucid moments, Luna was particularly insightful.

Holding her back, Luna stood, motioning for Hermione to join her. "Let's go sit by our men and absorb their innocence, it's good for pregnant women. I read that in a wonderful article, _Magically Conceived Babies and How to Protect them from Nargles."_

There went lucidity. Or did it? Had Luna meant 'pregnant women' inclusively? Hermione shook her tired head and followed Luna to sit on the most comfortable log they could find. She did not sit near the man who wasn't nearly hers, though she did sit close to the fire as it was beginning to get chilly. She looked at the happy faces of her friends, and the family that was beginning to join them. Mrs Weasley accioed her radio and tuned the WWN to a romantic station. The voice of a sultry aria filled the night.

"Mum, turn this mushy station off! The idea is to enjoy, not barf." Fred protested sulkily.

Mrs Weasley reluctantly switched the radio off, but volunteered Bridgit to sing for them. Bridgit was gifted with a particularly soothing voice that had entertained them on many occasions. On everyone's insistence, Bridgit softly broke into a haunting Celtic folk song. Though few understood the lyrics, the heart wrenching sentiment was unmistakable. Here was a woman singing to the man who she loved but hadn't seen for years.

Hermione's eyes were drawn to Draco. The fire's glow caressed his face with an intimacy denied to her. He returned the gaze, his eyes glimmering gold. Like the sky had discovered fireworks for one blessed night. He motioned with the tilt of his head for her to come sit next to him.

Hermione looked away. She wouldn't play his confusing games anymore.

As Bridgit's song ended in rowdy applause, Draco rose and headed for the house. Another day, she might have followed him- sneaking in like a teenager with a crush, eager for a clandestine snog. Not today.

Bridgit started another popular, upbeat, more recognisable song, and encouraged everyone to join in. Hermione was contributing to the general discordance of the coterie's merry singing, when she felt the air displaced beside her, the whiff of mountain and the heat of _him._

Luna smiled at Draco before turning away. She snuggled closer to her husband, softly whispering a cocoon around them that left Hermione distinctly out.

Hermione sneaked a glance at Harry, who seemed to be conducting some sort of non-verbal communication with Draco. Were they allowing each other to look in, with an attenuated form of Legilimency? She noticed the defiant square of Draco's shoulders as he took off his outer robe and placed it around her cold shoulders. She saw Harry's sigh of acceptance before he turned his head towards Ginny, who had witnessed the whole scene and was now animatedly whispering in Harry's ear.

Hermione wondered about the enigmatic exchange and she wondered about Draco's motivations. She could not decipher this mass of contradicting thoughts, words and deeds. His eyes seemed weary, as if he had posed to himself the same questions that plagued her, and come up short for an answer that sat well.

Draco inclined his head skywards at the twinkling stars and Hermione remembered a night a lifetime ago, at Stonehenge, the night before the final battle. They had sat much like this by a magical fire that night; she had imagined he'd let her in when he opened up to her for the very first time.

Still staring at the stars, Draco asked quietly, "Mi, are you sure you're ready to face whatever they have in store for us?"

Hermione liked that word, 'us'. She nodded once.

"Then there's one thing I've been itching to do all day." He looked grave.

Hermione couldn't help but smile. The last time he had used a similar phrase, it had led to their first kiss.

"What, Draco?"

Draco's face descended closer to hers, slowly, deliberately. She saw his features glowing in the firelight, his eyes ablaze with a million thoughts. She put a hand on his chest to make him pause. "Draco, they'll all know."

"Saves us the trouble of telling them, doesn't it?" His fierce gold eyes overwhelmed her, and she closed her own as Draco closed the infinite distance of that final inch.

Hermione found herself being kissed most tenderly, the dissonance of the song fading into the background. His forest smell, his Firewhiskey taste, his needy ardour, his reassuring touch- he enveloped her in a world that soothed and promised and shielded. His kiss bade her forget previously held qualms regarding public displays of affection.

The claps and whistles that filled the air broke Hermione from the spell and from Draco's embrace. Grinning faces and laughing eyes surrounded them with warmth.

"You two finally saw sense, did you?" Ginny beamed from her comfortable position across the fire, leaning into Harry's strong chest.

Hermione shrugged in embarrassment, apologetic to her friend for having discovered the relationship this way. Hermione returned her attention to Harry, who was examining Draco with an unfathomable expression, Draco returning the favour. Ginny nudged Harry sharply with her elbow; he nodded at Draco, sending a small smile Hermione's way.

One of the twins spoke up next. "You owe me ten galleons Gred. That's another couple I was right about."

The other protested, "Mate, that was what, seven years ago? Doesn't count anymore."

"It_does too. A wager is a wager!"_

Mildly amused and vastly relieved that their coupling had come as no insurmountable shock to her friends, Hermione let out a long-held breath. She had prepared herself for the worst-case scenario, as always. Clearly, she did not give her friends enough credit.

Mrs Weasley caught Hermione's eye and nodded benignly, her motherly smile in employ. Draco had blossomed under her pseudo-guardianship back at Grimmauld Place and she had continued her maternal ministrations over Draco the years, just as any other of her children's friends. Mrs Weasley probably felt at least partly responsible for his salvation. She seemed immensely pleased that two more of her kith and kin had found companionship. Hermione shyly smiled back as she reached to hold Draco's hand.

"You think we'll make the papers tomorrow?" Draco threw some dry kindle into the fire, threw his arm around her shoulder and another defiant smirk Harry's way. Harry rolled his eyes. Ginny glowed with unhidden glee.

Hermione carefully, adoringly, took a mental snapshot of the cheerful faces around the fire. She saw only people that cared for their happiness, not for the gossip that their misadventures could generate. She shook her head, content to be among the warmth of her friends and in the arms of her love. "No, not yet. For that we'll need Lavender Brown."

* * *

Your thoughts are very welcome and much appreciated.


	33. Days to Remember

Disclaimers: 1)All JKR's. I own nothing. 2) Details on Egypt may be erroneous

AN 1) My heartfelt gratitude to the** EFFUSIVE, TALENTED, INSIGHTFUL and COMPLETELY ADORABLE evenstar101. **She betaed this chapter and inspired me to add so much to it, that it barely looks like it's former self. (Thus, mistakes all mine!) **She has some very crafty stories on this site, so be sure to check them out**.

_2)_ We have crossed 500 reviews, Woo hooo!** Thank you to EACH REVIEWER who took the time to encourage**. Your words mean more than I could express. **Your thoughts** sometimes **alter the following chapter **more dramatically than I could give each of you credit for. Eg, Narcissa is back ONLY because YOU asked for her (You know who you are!). Though I gotta say it, it hasn't been written by Dixie, and I cannot hope get the Black scheming machinations as well as she did.

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3) SAW HBP, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE IT! I was afraid cannon Draco might put me off Fanfic Draco… but no, still feel the love! If anything, more so! I'd love to hear what you guys thought of it!

* * *

**A GENTLE NIGHT**

* * *

"Aha!" It was the third time Ginny had exclaimed the words this evening, since Hermione and Draco had arrived at the Potter household for a relaxed dinner.

Harry and Draco were in the yard, playing Quidditch with a predictably talented little James. Liliana made happy baby sounds, lying in the travelling crib that followed Ginny from room to room, floor to floor.

"Go on, Gin. You can say it." Hermione set the table.

"I told you so!" Ginny exclaimed, victoriously waving a ladle that splattered chilli on her yellow apron.

"There, feel better now?" Hermione patted her friend's hand as she spelled the stain off her friend's clothes.

Ginny made a face. "I sure do. Though let me say it again. I told you that you and Draco would make a fantastic couple! I knew there was something going on at New Year's. I can't believe you hid it from me! You must have laughed your bottom off a broomstick! Here I was, trying to set you up with Brian! You know, I should be mad at you." Ginny pointed an accusatory finger.

"You should be. You are not though, and I am very, very grateful." Hermione smiled at her friend, making the doe-eyes that seemed to work for James, when he was in trouble.

"Come now, you didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?" Ginny rebuked. That's when Hermione remembered, sometimes James stayed in trouble, despite the doe-eyes.

Ginny squinted her eyes to don her best evil glare, "You have to tell me all the details first. If they satisfy my morbid curiosity, then, and then only, willI forgive and forget. When did everything begin?"

Hermione thought back to the night in December. "Liliana, her birth set things in motion. Waiting at the hospital, Draco and I talked through the night and realised we wanted similar things in life. We reflected on it for a month and got together at New Year's."

Ginny's incredulous face promised a long dialogue. "Uh? Wait. What? You spent the night with Draco Malfoy, Witch Weekly's 'Sexiest Bachelor of the Year', four years in a row… and you talked? You discussed the things you want in life and waited for a month to reflect?"

Hermione fidgeted. "Yes?"

Ginny let out a snort that echoed of disbelief. "Sweetheart, you are telling me the wrong story. You need to tell me about the fireworks, the passion, the irresistible chemistry that had you tumbling into each other's arms! That is the scoop I want. You can save this version for your grandchildren."

Hermione was as close to Ginny as she imagined she could be to a sister, but this was too new, too personal to share just yet. She wanted to cherish it and keep it safe, close to her heart. Thankfully, her friends had not institutionalised her, for imagining herself charmed by the debonair Draco Malfoy… yet. However, they would declare her foolish for actively pursuing a relationship that denied a prospective commitment. A baby out of wedlock would be unacceptable to the honourable wizards of the protective Weasley clan. The Wizarding society in general would chastise her for allowing the circumstance. No, she could not share the news just yet. Besides, Draco and she had decided to wait till the first trimester had passed to announce their pregnancy.

Hermione took a deep breath; she had to give Ginny _some_thing. "Let's see if you like this any better, then. It's all really new Gin, it took us both by surprise. This is probably not one of those forever-after affairs, but the chemistry is worth exploring, and it has been really exciting so far. Like you lectured, if not now, when?""

Ginny looked marginally more pleased as she took the wailing Liliana up for a change of clothes.

While chopping vegetables for the salad, Hermione reviewed the past few weeks. Her own best critic, she recalled her indulgent mood-swings these past few months. _Hormones_ were not permissible enough an excuse, not in Hermione's sharply censorial introspections. She cringed at the memory of the maudlin ruminations, when there was so much to be accomplished and averted.

That Draco had been keeping the larger picture in mind, had forced her to assess her own lack of vision.

That Draco had declared the relationship to their friends had been another revelation. All this time, she had assumed Draco wanted to avoid a relationship, overlooking how _he _had been the one to persuade her into one. Hermione had been reminded once again, Draco's composed demeanour was not indicative of detachment; he just wasn't mannered to bare his soul.

Her renewed sense of self helped recharge Hermione. She had never once lagged at work; however, she discovered a zest and determination to accomplish more, better, higher. She renewed her correspondence with MS Nomad and ministers from other countries. She arranged a meeting with the Head of the Auror department, a Mr Potter, demanding full disclosure of pertinent details, browbeating Harry, till he relented.

_"…But Hermione, you are pregnant!"_

_"Your point, Potter?"_

_"You shouldn't be taking unnecessary risks right now." Harry's protective look had almost undone Hermione's resolve, making her want to go hug him instead. Almost._

_"I am not taking any risk that I didn't sign up for when I accepted this job Harry. Besides, if you want to play by that rulebook, you should have quit your job the day James was born. I don't see you compromising your work ethics to stay safe for your children. Now, I need all the details, or I'm going to get them myself, which may compromise your sources. Your choice."_

After obtaining information from the official resources, Hermione contacted the less than traditional sources she had cultivated in the past years. If something was coming, she was going to be ready for it. Her career had never been more important. Neither had her personal life.

Since the wedding, Draco and Hermione's relationship had blossomed to another contented level. Now that she was less dependant and expectant of his affections, his little gestures meant much more. She was grateful for his almost constant presence in her life. She felt liberated, and Draco seemed much more at ease with her. He spoke less reservedly, laughed more freely and spent significantly more time at her flat, almost having moved in. Hermione could not help but notice the irony; it was once she had let him go, in her mind, that they had officially evolved into a healthy 'couple'.

Hermione returned to the present when Ginny came down, the sleeping Liliana resting in the magically portable crib. Ginny pointed the crib in a corner. "Have you two talked about the future? You've been together for six months now, known each other, well, school doesn't count, but since Grimmauld Place. Where do you see this going?"

"Hmm… we are not thinking that far yet." Hermione looked away, unable to face Ginny while hiding the truth Harry knew all to well.

Ginny drew her own conclusions from Hermione's apparent uneasiness. "Hermione, you need to squash your inhibitions under those sensible flat shoes, grab him by that platinum hair and drag him to your cave, demand he confess his undying ardour, plan the wedding of the year and make a zillion blond babies together! Of course, I'll agree to be your maid of honour. I have this perfect green dress in mind."

Hermione couldn't help the grin; Ginny's imagery was so vivid. "Gin, neither Draco, nor I, are the fiery kinds. We don't need sizzling, ardent declarations to make us happy. For us, actions speak louder. Trust me, I have had my share of declarations of love. None of them meant half of what it means, when Draco takes care of the little things. He knows me, he really knows me. He anticipates my moods, my whims, my little desires. He is there for me, when I need him. Why complicate things?"

"What's the harm, though? I know he loves you."

"I know he loves me, Ginny. It is evident in his actions. Being in love, though, is another game on a broom. Forever is too far away. He doesn't even know where he'll be tomorrow. He is not the kind to commit, only to recant later. He will always care for me, always be there for me, just… not as a… husband. Honestly? I prefer his candour and our relationship to hazy motivations and a messy divorce in ten years. If I demand a commitment, he may feel pressurised, claustrophobic. Draco under emotional pressure is a disaster waiting to happen. There is no surer way to chase him away."

Ginny drank some of her iced tea, absorbing Hermione's words. "So is that the grand plan? You'll see each other, exclusively? For how long?"

"Till we tire of each other? Till we find other people? Till we drift apart? Or, if we truly are as compatible as you optimistically opine, forever? Who knows? I've learnt to take each day at a time. Draco has the tendency to surprise me, usually pleasantly."

Ginny hesitated while taking her apron off, expressing her surprise at the serene Laissez-faire attitude Hermione had inculcated over the past few days. "Are you really as collected and calm as you seem? Merlin, I would have pulled my hair out!"

"No, you wouldn't have. You did not. You waited, gave Harry all the years he needed. You were fine. Why should I be any different? I will confess to having experienced phases of hormone-driven hysteria; fortunately, they are fewer and farther in between. I am truly content with my life. I have brilliant careers that let me contribute constructively to the world. My jobs fulfil me, challenge me and earn me a decent living. I have friends to die for and family that loves me. I have my health. I have Draco on my side, if not always by it. Please don't tell me that I need more, don't make me feel like what I have is not enough. I am happy. Be happy for me?"

Ginny brought forward her hand to hold Hermione's. "I am. I really, really am. Tell me, though, how kinky is the sex? Is the legend of Draco's Dragon true?"

"Mummy, mummy!"

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief at the interruption. An animated James ran in from the yard and proudly produced his children's Snitch like a trophy. "Mommy, I and Draco caught the Snitch opposite Daddy! Daddy did not even see it, but I sawed it and showed it to Draco and he ran so fast and steered my broom and I caught it!"

The men entered the house soon after, "… in the room just stood staring at Richard." Draco was just finishing a story about a mutual acquaintance while Harry chuckled.

Harry took James upstairs while Draco washed his hands in the kitchen. Ginny eyed him playfully. "High time you recognized the tension for what it was. Though I warn you, you both better not go all sappy on us. Your battles of will and wits have provided us much amusement all these years. We wouldn't know what to do with you, if you became all corny."

Draco shuddered in affected repugnance as he stood next to Hermione, his arm around her shoulder. "Have no fear, Ginny. Hermione and I find our little exchanges, entertainingly fraught, with pertinaciously contradictory opinions. In all likeliness, Fred and George will have a variety of images of insolence to sift from, for this year's fireworks."

He looked down at Hermione with pride. He _liked _that they fought! She liked the make-up sex.

Hermione nodded solemnly. "I will have to put in some thought into that. It will be hard to top the picture you made with the daisies sticking out of your ears, but I am sure inspiration will not be difficult to come by. You would provide ample reasons to abhor you, I am positive."

"You can wage on that Granger. I live to pester you; my favourite sport after Potter-baiting. Quidditch comes a poor third."

Ginny threw some lettuce shreds at Draco, which he reflexively blocked. Hermione cleaned up the mess with the flick of a wand-less wrist, as Harry and James joined them for dinner. James insisted on sitting next to Draco, who entertained the little boy with the boy's favourite subject: stories about Quidditch, and then, stories of Quidditch as it was played at Hogwarts. The night was spent in gentle discourse and soft laughter.

* * *

**A BRIGHT MORNING**

* * *

June 3rd, and Hermione found herself anticipating Draco's upcoming birthday. The Weasleys had organised a barbeque lunch for Saturday afternoon, which fell on the fifth. They had invited only close family and friends, which meant about thirty odd people. No gossip columnist had yet torn Draco and Hermione's personal lives apart. Hermione had her friends to thank for their discretion.

Unsure as to how Draco would prefer to spend his birthday, she broached the topic. "Draco?"

His blond stubble gave his face an added effervescence in the morn's rays, as he looked up from his coffee and newspaper. "Hmm?"

"Do you have plans for this weekend?"

Draco's eyes curled at the corners as he scoffed. "You want us to attend that dratted barbeque, don't you?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. Do you want to spend Saturday with your mother?" She continued calmly, "I'd just like to plan ahead."

Draco rested his newspaper on the table, looking more amused by the minute, scrutinising her reactions and making Hermione feel ever more conscious. "What do you think, Mi?"

Hermione shook her head as she smiled. "Oh no, I know better than to presume about you, Draco Malfoy. My conjectures regarding you fall staggeringly amiss from reality." She knew he would appreciate the allusion to his 'mysterious ways'. It was likely that he had cultivated the image by design and exerted the extra effort to maintain it.

Draco's very beguiling smile surfaced. "I'm having breakfast with mother. Then, I am yours for the day. If you'll have me?"

"Perfect!" Hermione was sure she was beaming as she got up to put his cup in the sink. Draco caught her hand and tugged at her, bringing her to sit on his lap. "Merlin, you're getting heavy! Are you sure there is just one baby in there?" He tucked some hair behind her ear. "So, what are we doing for my birthday?"

Hermione sighed happily, as she looked into his morning eyes; they always seemed bluer when he woke up. "I would have gone to the Weasley's if you were busy, but I'd rather spend the day however you prefer."

Draco's made a show of wiping nonexistent sweat off his brow. Then his hand went to her tummy, where it stayed, caressing gently. "Brilliant. I refuse to see Potter any more than I forcibly have to… especially on my Birthday. Being older is depressing enough! Adding Potter's company to the mix is just provocation to get inebriated out of unadulterated misery! That man is a hundred grey clouds, without a single lining of silver. I think they are planning on replicating him to guard Azkaban. The guards miss the Dementors sucking the cheer out of the place… and there is no beating Potter at sucking."

Hermione whacked his head gently. "What _does _the great Draco Malfoy usually do on his birthday? Other than look for excuses to get drunk, and insult Harry."

"I bask in the glory of my greatness… so nothing unusual then." He smirked as his hand found the outline of Hermione's bra-less breast, through her thin cotton T-shirt.

"Can I surprise you?" Hermione tilted her head, wondering if Draco could endure the lack of control that came with a surprise.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You can try."

"I was thinking a trip to see my parents."

"You what?!" Draco pushed her off his lap.

It was Hermione's turn to smirk. "No? Right, we'll do that later then."

Draco composed his face into diplomatic neutrality, and almost managed to stay tactful, but broke. "Why can't you tell them about us on that po… thing?" He pointed to her phone.

Hermione grinned. "I have. I've told them we are dating. I have not told them about the baby yet. The likelihood of my dad beating you to pulp, for despoiling his only daughter's virtue, would lower marginally, if he learnt to like you more. Nevertheless, we do not have to spend time with them. After all, I have not spent any with your mother."

Draco looked thoughtful. "No, you are right. Let us meet your parents the Saturday after, then we will meet mother for brunch on Sunday. No meeting anyone _this _weekend, correct?"

Hermione had one eyebrow raised, a poor attempt at imitating his skilled facial muscles. "You are so wary of friends and family, Draco… how do you feel about your enemies?"

"Them, I enjoy." He slapped her bottom and headed upstairs to get ready for work.

* * *

**A HAPPY BIRTHDAY**

* * *

"Good morning Mother."

"Draco, joyeux anniversaire!"

Narcissa got up from her chair to kiss her son's cheek. He hugged her.

She had left a simply wrapped parcel next to Draco's place setting. She noticed that Draco opened it with gentle care, as he had been taught as a child. It was a thick journal of aged, yellowed, legal documents; preserved by the magic that held the tome together. The dragon-leather binding bore the Malfoy family crest.

"Merci beaucoup, maman." Draco nodded his gratitude.

"The Malfoy Family Statute. I finally found it in old aunt Matilda's vault at Gringotts. Edict number 522 might interest you." Narcissa shook her napkin and placed it on her lap.

Draco smirked while pouring himself some pumpkin juice. "How many?"

Narcissa and Draco had their own unique tempo of communication. Questions not always qualified, answers not often expected. They jumped to pertinent dialogue, lending the impression of randomness. Nothing was random about the Malfoy Slytherins. It was all deliberate.

"Give or take a few hundred, about three thousand." Narcissa buttered her croissant.

"I am grateful that you have perused this most meticulously, mother. Please, what does Malfoy law number 522, decree?"

"You can not bear children out of wedlock."

"I can not? Or _shall_ not?"

Misleading him temporarily would be of no benefit. Draco and his lawyers would discover the loophole in diktat number 835.

"You shall not." Narcissa sipped her hot chocolate.

"So, if I care naught about the 800 year old law…" Draco took a bite of his Danish, not seeming the least concerned.

"Then you will forfeit the rights to your family reserves." _No change in pupil size, no throbbing temple, no tick in left check._ _He really does not seem to care._

"Before I took control of the family business?"

_He has done his homework. My boy!_ "What you generated, after you took control, is yours."

"The family's wealth was always yours, Mother." Draco placed his fork on the table to have another sip of juice.

_Steady hands, steady tone, steady eyes and steady pulse. He means every word. Any other Malfoy male would have balked at the idea of losing even a part of his inheritance._ Narcissa swelled with pride. This streak of independence was a Black trait.

_He may look like you, talk like you and strut like you Lucius, but he is _my_ son!_

Over the years, Draco had almost doubled the Malfoy fortune that had severely diminished in the final years of the Dark Lord's rule. The fiscal success from the keenly managed Chudley Canons team, alone, ought have generated considerable prosperity for her able-minded son. Not to mention the other unmentionable endeavours he put himself up to. Still, that he was ready to forsake millions for Hermione… _Hmm… Emotional blackmail then?_

"What about marriage dissuades you so? Tell me, did your father and I lead such an appalling example of it?

"Mother." Draco picked up The Daily Prophet to glance at the headlines.

"Does Ms Granger regard marriage with similar apprehension?"

"You can call her Hermione." Draco turned a page without looking up.

"I shall assume that liberty when she grants it."

Draco met her gaze. "Next Sunday, are you available for brunch?"

_Ah, progress._ "What are her preferences in meals? Cravings and dislikes?"

"Misty less forthcoming in her daily interviews?" Draco raised a speculative brow before returning to the newspaper.

Narcissa shook her head. "You always wanted both toys, both games, two stories. Not because you were greedy, but because you were scared of living with the consequences of your choices. Ever fretful about decisions. What if the other were better? You always thought too much for your own good, darling. I remember how you angered Lucius, as a boy, when you could not decide the theme for your room. Grey or green? Finally, you chose blue, just to defy him."

She stirred the sugar in her tea. "You have more than one career, one home, one office. One love in a lifetime… one is enough. One is more than many people receive. You do not have to be afraid to commit, once you have found it."

"Fascinating." By now, Draco had abandoned all pretences of paying attention.

Her son had never been fond of sentimental discussions. Emotions perturbed Draco, conceivably because they stretched his taut nerves even further. Perhaps, Draco shied from sentimentality, afraid that it would interfere with his ability to think. Above all, Draco was a thinker. Which made the brilliant Ms Granger the perfect partner for him. Without intellectual stimulation in his relationship, Draco would have suffered. It had been the verbal jousting with the spirited Ms Granger that had charmed him, and her evolved mind that would ultimately prove irresistible. Hermione, a Virgo, also ruled by Mercury, was practical herself; logical enough to understand the cool nature of Draco's affections. If she remained satisfied, paying attention to his actions, rather than the lack of passionate proclamations, they would fare well. _If._

"Do not take Ms Granger's patience for her weakness."

"Mother, the lack of wedding is her stipulation, not mine."

_Yes! He needs to be reminded of that. If he thinks he can not have her, we have a better chance! _"Draco, she is a proud woman with conservative sensibilities."

"Hmm."

"What do you feel for her?" Narcissa braced herself.

"She is a friend." Draco answered bland-faced.

CRACK. _My precious china!_

"My closest friend?" Draco smiled before pressing an affectionate peck on Narcissa's cheek and exiting the room.

Narcissa smiled. Her son did not yet realise it, but he had been played. She had pondered over how to present the information that marriage was not going to be compulsory.

Reverse psychology had seemed the most plausible course. Finding some of Hermione's skeletons had been difficult, but it had been done. Any number of objections against the marriage would have put Draco on the defensive. He would have seen through it though, far too easily. He would have then resented his mother for the intrusion, and worse, for the aspersions cast on his child's mother.

After much thought, Narcissa's birthday gift to her son had been the reassurance, that he would not be coerced into matrimony. With that information alone, she had doubled the chances of a wedding.

Narcissa knew Draco cared deeply for Hermione, if in his own imperturbable way. Draco had emerged from the catastrophe of war, a quiet, painfully reserved man, determined only to salvage his family's name and his honour. It had taken Draco years to rise from the ashes of his father's crushing legacy, moulding himself into a man obdurate, unwavering and impervious to happiness. It had taken Narcissa years to ease him into relaxing in her own company again. Steadily, persistently, Ms Granger's gentle care had unwittingly penetrated Draco's defences. Ever since news of the baby, Draco had exuded happiness. _Not exuded, precisely, just unable to hide his joy as successfully as customary._

However, Draco had to learn that relationships were not emotionally convenient, before it was too late. The runes were not favourable for her son. Interminably, Narcissa read loss and regret in the signs. Hermione Granger was a redoubtable force in her own rights. If Draco failed to provide what she required from their relationship, she would cease to hope, then cease to wait. The resourceful Ms Granger would pick up her life and move on, leaving her oblivious son, haplessly blind-sided.

_Give him some more time. _Narcissa asked, not sure of whom.

Hermione only had to continue offering him this uncomplicated serenity, this sense of home, till he got too comfortable to be without. If Hermione continued to give him all the space he needed, Draco would doubtless, present the wedding as _his _splendid idea. Conceitedly, think it too.

_The poor dear really has no inkling. Tsk._

* * *

Donned in a pretty yellow sundress, her face glowing and her bag ready, Hermione sat with a soothing cup of mint decoction.

Draco flooed in at 10:58 am, two minutes earlier than promised. A pale blue linen shirt brought out his eyes, while visibly expensive khakis and handmade loafers completed his ensemble. His hair fell over his eyes in a careless cascade, as he bent to pat the ash from his clothes. His top two buttons were open, so she could glimpse the gold on his chest. When Draco looked up from his dusted clothes to smile at Hermione, her silly heart swelled with unbidden elation.

"Not going to wish me?"

Hermione gracefully made her way to him, rose on tiptoes and planted a demure kiss on his cheeks. "Happy Birthday, Draco."

She handed him a baby-blue envelope.

"What's this?" Draco opened the envelope to find a birthday card.

_To the best Daddy in the whole world,_

_Happy Birthday!_

_I can not wait to play with you._

_Love,_

_Blueberry_

A recent ultrasound scan at the muggle gynaecologist had revealed the baby was healthy, and just a little larger than a blueberry. Since then, the name had stuck, like the picture of the scan, on her dresser's mirror.

Draco stood astounded, exultant. He thanked Hermione with a searing kiss. After all these months, his kisses still made her weak in the knees. He walked over to the fireplace and displayed the card proudly on her mantle, then scanned the room thoughtfully.

"Where is my gift?" he asked, expectantly.

Hermione had invested much thought into his present and had decided on simple joys. She was going to gift him experiences rather than objects. She pulled out a small box from her bag and opened it to display a dragon figurine made of jasper. When Draco reached for it, Hermione retracted the box.

"Not yet. Together, in 3, 2, 1"

The familiar, uncomfortable tug of the Portkey reached her tummy, though the surprise on Draco's face made the discomfort wholly worth it.

As they landed in a cool, towering forest, Hermione was surprised to see Draco whip out his wand, his suspicious eyes quickly examining the immediate surroundings, his guarded stance ready for unidentified danger. After a moment of reckoning, and her assuring touch, his body relaxed.

"Where are we?"

Hermione pointed towards the man approaching them from behind a copse of trees.

Draco grinned, "You didn't! Granger, tell me, are we in Romania?"

Charlie slapped Draco on his back in a friendly greeting. "You sure are! Happy Birthday, mate!" While exchanging pleasantries, Charlie led them through a maze of tunnels in caves large and small, to bring them to the charily warded entry of the Dragon Reserve.

Charlie had arranged for Draco to spend some one-on-one time with a dragon. "They don't like sharing spaces, these creatures. Not very social. So we give 'em ample playroom. That's why you can't see 'em all from here. We have 'round thirty odd dragons here, mostly rescues from illegal pet trade and some abandoned chicks. Some of 'em beasts made their way to muggle forests. The Romanian Longhorn Dragon was one of those buggers, we found her in the Black Forest in Germany. Had to _obliviate_ some muggles, clean up a lot of mess. That's reservation nine, where Frieda roars."

Draco's animated face revealed his anticipation. The Romanian Longhorn was his Patronus form.

Charlie took Draco through the characteristics specific to the dragon, talking about its habits, breeding and life. He meticulously enumerated the daily care-taking duties administered to ensure the dragon's health. Charlie then handed Draco a specialised fireproof broom that the dragon keepers used, with instructions and guidelines. The two took to the skies, Draco's fervour evident in his form. He flew at stupendous speeds, weaving and ducking, often barely escaping the dragon's flaming snarls when he got too close.

Hermione sat with her fingers crossed. While she understood Draco's penchant for thrill, she hoped that Charlie's assurances of safety were not relative in their context. When not fretting, Hermione let herself enjoy the winsome sight of a soaring Draco. Air was indubitably Draco's element. With his lithe grace, speed, balance, control, muscular form and flying hair… Draco in flight was sheer poetry. No wonder his team always played to packed pitches. Cannon fans flocked to see his team play, but women flocked to watch him fly.

Two hours passed in an action-packed blur and the men landed, lending Hermione's hands a respite from the assault by her nails. The pair thanked Charlie as he led them back to the Key Port.

Charlie hugged Hermione goodbye, thanking her for the homemade food she had brought for the keepers. He turned to shake Draco's hand. "This was fun, Draco. You're a natural! Come by anytime you like. I think Frieda fancies you, never seen her trying to lick a human before."

Hermione scoffed "Oh, that was licking, was it? Only it looked like she was vying for a barbequed snack."

Draco shushed her, swelling with pride at Charlie's parting shot. As soon as Charlie was out of sight, he turned elatedly towards Hermione, "That was decidedly the best birthday present I have ever received! You are phenomenal Granger, thank you!" He picked Hermione up and hugged her tight, then put her down gently. "Did you see me duck that time under her nose? She almost got me then, didn't she! That was more fun than I've had in ages!"

Taking heart in his effusive response, Hermione pulled out another box from her handbag. The figurine here was an onyx sailboat. Draco inclined his head to a side, "What are you up to now Granger?"

In a "3, 2, 1" they landed inside a house. Before Draco could bury her in questions, Hermione opened the front door to reveal a beach. Not just a beach, a beach bejewelled with glittering pools of water, caught between golden sand dunes.

Sun brightened citrine and turquoise reflected in the shallow pools from the warm summer sky. The unending waters had a few sailboats that lazily breached the warm surface; the clear sky boasted some brightly coloured kites.

Hermione retrieved a blanket from her bag that she spread on ground, shy from the clear pools and sand ripples a few feet away.

Draco looked around, not recognising the spectacular natural splendour. "Again I wonder, where we are."

"It's a town called Formby, in the West Lancashire Coastal Plain. We are in Merseyside, England. That is the Irish Sea. My family, we used to come here often in my childhood. I remember when I was around ten, I would beg to come here almost every month. The main beaches can get quite crowded in summer, but this is private property. That cottage, I gifted to my parents on their thirtieth anniversary. Coming here, it inspires my mother to paint. It calms me."

Hermione felt the serenity seep into her being, and she let out a happy sigh, exhaling her worries away. She felt a little vulnerable, sharing this simple, sacred spot with Draco. "Do you like it?"

"It is stunning. Tell me Granger, how many men have you brought here to seduce with your wily charms?"

Hermione laughed. "Oh my, seems I have lost count. Just so you know, I do not seduce. It is not my fault that men find me irresistible."

Draco lifted one eyebrow, expressing his condescension as he started to unbutton his shirt. "You coming in?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, the water is still cool for me. You go ahead, I'll arrange for lunch."

Draco changed into the swimming trunks that Hermione handed him. She watched him with blatant indiscretion as he approached the water and dived in like a professional.

Hermione was admiring the general and specific views, when she heard a crack of apparition from behind her, just inside the open doorway of the cottage. Hermione took a quick look around and assured Misty that it was safe. The nearest cottage was kilometres away, and it took a well-hidden path to get to this part of the beach. Company was unlikely. Regardless, the elf had on, a large white hat and a small pink dress. Anyone who happened to observe them from a distance, would not be able to discern the give-away features of the magical creature.

Misty had brought with her a picnic, large enough for two Quidditch teams. She kept reaching into her basket to retrieve an assortment of fruits, sandwiches, cheeses and juices. She was decidedly more excited than Hermione. "How is Miss? How is Master? Misty makes right time? Misty put muggle-repelling charm here, like Miss asks. Master likes his surprise with the dragons?" When Hermione filled her in about the morning, Misty shuddered. "Misty not like dragons, Master brave!" Misty continued to fuss over Hermione for a while, before leaving.

By the time Draco came back, his body glistening with prismatic droplets in the high sun, Hermione had their light fare arranged. She handed Draco a towel and then a set of clothes. The dark green cotton T-shirt and relaxed- fit shorts had looked nice enough in the shop, but Draco could make a potato sack look like haute couture! He looked down at his clothes in approval too.

"Whenever I see this colour, I can not help but remember you in those Chinese dress robes that night. You have to wear those for me." He grinned roguishly.

Hermione handed him antibacterial gel and a plate as he sat down. "I do not have that dress anymore." No sense in telling him she had Flagrated the cheongsam, that ill-fated night. Unsure if she was ready for the answer, Hermione enquired, "Draco, I have caught myself wondering, why did you break up with Adalina? You seemed… fairly compatible."

Draco examined the sandwich platter as he revealed nonchalantly, "She broke up with me."

Hermione stopped before biting into her sandwich. "She did? Why?"

Draco grinned his mischievous smile, "According to her, I am an emotionally unavailable il falco, who desperately needs someone to ground me. Or did she call me a capon?" He shook his head in mirth. "Presumably, she was not interested in applying for the _grounding _position. She wanted to be the centre of someone's universe, but the spot was already taken in mine." His grin melted into a slow, soft, heart-wrenching pout.

Hermoine distracted herself from his lips long enough to jumble an appropriate, "It was? By whom?"

Draco's intense, sky-hued eyes stared at her for a moment; a moment that reminded Hermione just how hot it was. He finally broke into a lazy smile. "Me, of course."

_Earth to Hermione. _She shook herself out of the hypnotic charm he had weaved around her. She was proud to retain the use of her physical responses, like respiration… and speech… and thought.

"Ah, of course. So, if she hadn't broken up with you, would you have continued the relationship… considered getting married to her?"

Draco shrugged casually. "I did consider getting married to her."

Hermione went still. She could not assuage the ache in her heart. He had considered getting married to the Italian bit… _Stop it Hermione! Healthy thoughts, healthy baby. _

Examining the baby carrot she had been nibbling on, she coolly hazarded, "You did?"

Draco innocently offered her some pumpkin juice, and then started to aim grapes into his mouth. "Yes. The idea terrified me. I imagined we would always be competing over who had prettier hair! The pressure was inconceivable. With you, there is no such contest. I like that. I can relax."

Hermione sat staring at him, waiting for Draco to realise how it had sounded, waiting for the retraction. Waited for the shields to come up. When they didn't, in the slow eon that passed, when all he did was continue eating his grapes in ignorant bliss, she breathed again. She threw a grape at his face, which he managed to catch with his multi-talented mouth. They spoke of little things for a while and the baby's topic came up, as it often did.

"You know, we should probably start looking for names for Blueberry. We have so little time!"

Draco's bemused expression preceded his protest. "Granger, we have more than six months!"

"There's so much to do though, Draco! We have to look for his books, furniture, stroller and clothes. Then we have to paint the nursery, get bathing accessories, baby-safe the flat… there is a lot of work to be done! We should start soon." She bit her lip and ventured hesitantly, "I think I want to call our son _Hugo_."

"Hugo?" Draco looked up from where his head now rested in her lap, derision blatant. "Granger, our child is not a pup." He played with her hair as he continued, "Besides, how many times have I told you, Blueberry is a girl!"

"Just in case he is a boy, what would you want to name him?"

"Scorpius." Draco stated decidedly.

Hermione stared aghast. "No. Draco, I will not even consider it. Scorpius? A fatally stinging, dangerous creature? He may be the fruit of your Malfoy loins, but he is also our _baby_, have some compassion!"

"Well, the subject is moot, since we are having a daughter. You do realise that she has to be named in the Black tradition? Her name has to be derived from the skies?"

Hermione frowned. "You really want to do that? I was thinking, Leah or Lena."

Draco seemed to give the name some thought, "Alter it to Leona, and we may have a compromise. Be prepared for her house mates to tease her mercilessly."

"Why?" Hermione cocked her head to a side.

"Can you envision little Slytherin boys _not _teasing a Slytherin girl named Leona? House rivalries may have mitigated, but sainthood does not become a Slytherin."

Hermione sneered. "Don't lose sleep any over _that _concern, since our daughter will be a Gryffindor. The name _Leona_ will help her fit in perfectly. _Lena _means _the bright one_. So that would sit well with Ravenclaws too." She looked at her watch and exclaimed, "Merlin, we're late!"

Draco helped Hermione get up and banished the remaining food and items to Malfoy Manor. Hermione retrieved a third box from her bag to reveal a rose quartz crystal, shaped like a pyramid. At her count they touched it and were transported to the sweltering heat of endless desserts and a huge river. The pyramids of Giza proudly adorned the horizon. Hermione and Draco had toured the pyramids before. This was about something else.

Hermione checked them into the renowned spa, _Isis_, and they were led to a white tent right at the bank's edge. As they entered the _Suradeq_, it felt as if they were stepping into ancient times, when Egyptian Gods ruled the exotic land. The inside canopy was appliquéd with exquisite geometric patterns in green, red, blue and yellow. Their romantic _Khayma _smelled of fragrant roses and Hermione assumed it was cooled magically, the temperature inside was perfect.

Draco made suggestive eyes at her, pointing to the large sultan bed in a glowing corner, but forgot his randy notions as soon as the therapeutic massage commenced. Both, her doctor and her healer, had assured Hermione, that when done by a professional trained in anatomy and physiology, a massage would be safe and comforting. Hermione had mentioned to the therapist that she was pregnant so the girl was particularly careful around her calves and ankles, where lay pressure points that could initiate premature contractions. The therapist kneaded their tensed shoulder muscles into dough. Even though Draco and Hermione lay on adjacent tables, neither felt the need to talk during the meditatively relaxing experience.

After their hour-long massages, Draco was embalmed in mineral-rich clays, and under much protestation, wrapped up in silk sheets, neck-down, like a mummy. The cooling charm was removed from the tent, letting Draco, literally, sweat his toxins out. The wrap's mineral and magical ingredients helped in combating muscular aches; a treatment that, his therapist assured him, would help his Quidditch-fatigued body.

Hermione was led to a decadent milk and rose sunken bath in the same tent. Draco complained incessantly about the favouritism, up until five minutes into the wrap, when the heat began to lull him into a lazy stupor.

After half an hour, bathed and rejuvenated, the two lounged in comfortable chairs just inside their organza screens, enjoying the cooling breeze and the sight of the sun setting over the desert.

Draco reached to clasp Hermione's hand. "I feel like your dear Lockhart has had a go at my bones."

Hermione glared at him and swatted his hand away.

Draco let out a contented sigh and a genuine smile. "This was just what I needed, Mi. You chose this spot because of the Thuben legend?"

Hermione _accioed_ a pair of binoculars wandlessly, from her bag. She handed them to Draco, to observe the blackened sky, lit with the twinkling of a thousand gems. There, _Draco, _the constellation, ruled the heavens.

She spoke softly, sleepily. "You probably know, there is another legend surrounding the constellation in these parts. Ancient Arabic nomads envisioned it as a hoard of _Mother Camels_. Instead of seeing a dragon, they saw a ring of mother camels surrounding a calf. Another camel runs to join them, see, there, protecting the baby from a line of charging hyenas."

Draco smirked. "What am I? A pack of charging hyenas, or a mother camel?"

Hermione smiled. "Neither. The world does not revolve around you, Draco. Not till 21,000 AD."

Draco laughed at the intended pun. "On that note, can we proceed according to my next whim? That massage stirred up an appetite. Lunch was great, but it was rather light, wasn't it?" Draco gently tugged at Hermione's hand to help her get up.

They ate an elaborate dinner at a resort nearby and Hermione revealed the content of her final box. A small house made of moonstone. She was taking him home.

The couple spent some time at Hermione's flat, but then Draco flooed over to the manor, asking her to join him in fifteen minutes. Hermione reached his room to find the French doors open to the balcony, where an alter of candles stood by a large sultan bed on the floor, completely encompassed by a breathtaking canopy of white organza.

"I was inspired." He winked before leading her into their balmy, enchanting world, where they chatted, reminisced, laughed and yes, by Merlin, snogged, finally retiring only when completely spent. Sunday went by in languid pleasures and they moved their base back to Hermione's flat.

* * *

_That _Day

* * *

Monday morning, Draco woke up with dawn and kissed her goodbye. He was going to Italy for a few days. She would not see him till Thursday.

Hermione arose dreamily, taking her time to enjoy the brightening summer sky. She went to use the toilet. Her heart stopped beating for one endless, harrowing instant.

There was blood on her pants.

~o~

* * *

AN: This chapter's end may prove unpopular with many. Though regrettable, it has been thus planned, from the start. I aspire to finish the story in apprx 8-10 chapters. MORE THAN EVER, I will need to hear your thoughts now onwards. More than ever.


	34. C'est La Vie

**AUTHOR'S HEARTFELT NOTE: More than 23,000 dolphins and porpoises are being slaughtered each year! **In the award winning documentary, **The Cove**, a team of activists and filmmakers infiltrated a heavily-guarded cove in Taiji, Japan. In this remote village they witnessed a ruthless herding of innumerable dolphins.

On a heartbreakingly regular basis, about 5-7 'pretty' dolphins are chosen for Sea Parks and tourist activities, around the world. The rest are slaughtered mercilessly. Their meat, containing toxic levels of mercury, often mislabelled as whale meat, is sold/ given to children. Though Japanese authorities know about it, they are turning a blind eye, and this horror is being hidden from the public for obvious reasons.

Even the dolphins that escape the slaughter and reach captivity have less than ideal fates. Often depressed, many just chose to stop breathing. (It is a voluntary function for them) So 'swimming with dolphins' and watching dolphin shows at theme parks is not helping these wise mammals. In the US, import of Japanese Dolphins has been banned for a while, but not so for around the World.

**YOU**** CAN HELP:**

To make an impact on this issue, we must get the word out in Japan and urge action from our own leaders. Please visit the link below to demand action from our leaders. All you need to do is sign one electronic letter.

www(dot)takepart(dot)com/thecove/the_cove_letter_writing(dot)php

If you don't live in US or Japan, please help spread awareness about the issue. You can include **The Cove** widget in your facebook or Myspace profile/ blog, or you can forward this message in email to your friends. **Please take a few moments to help these graceful, friendly creatures from heartbreaking, terrible fates.**

**Thank you,**

**Diagonally**

* * *

To all who reviewed for the last chapter, my humblest gratitude. I found myself quite overwhelmed, quite often, by your kind words and your unconditional support. I CAN not tell you what each review meant to me… even though I am supposed to be decent with words, I just can NOT. _You help me stay sane_, just begins to describe it. You helped me write a chapter I was particularly reluctant to write. You give me something worthy of doing when insomnia rears much too frequently. You also give me peace, which helps me sleep; a precious luxury some nights.

My heartfelt thanks to these recent reviewers (in order of reviewing): blueskyshymoon08, mentarisenja, truelavender, dracoloves09, lovelyru, m0vi3angel, Jade2099, Jazii26, xxDracoDragonxx, margaritama, jadeskullz, JillianUnleashed, brandonlov, Enilas, lilac17, dancing-supastar, PyroAngel8605, serena2010, ClaireBear xo, SnacoGranger, lily, tfobmv18, Ceylon, MissMally, Liz16, Frozen Darkness, Slytherinchica08, ljhouse, akaalias, Li0n3ss, evenstar101, squash, 3, HarryPGinnyW4eva, dragonsgirl21, BookLover299, green123, DaOnLeeSam, ebbe04, Super-girl-straight-from-hell, rats, Swimming-Gal, ren-san, Fantasy Trickster, caseyjarryn, CherryBlossom, Yodle, sconi, xCailinNollaigx, Cb623, nathy7, X.B. Knight, blueidpanda, anonymous and Mandy. For those who have disabled private messaging, and anon reviewers, I would love to reply to your queries, but am unable.

The initial part of this chapter was initially part of the _last_ chapter, so it has been betaed by the PHENOMENAL EVENSTAR101.

The chapter in its entirety has been betaed by the **sensitive, talented, extremely thorough and undeniably lovely BLUESKYSHYMOON**. The woman pointed close to a hundred edits and calls _me_ kind! :) Her own stories speak of gentle love and glorious loss… with such unique grace that you can't help but be moved. This troubling, 16-paged chapter was hers to beta since before I wrote it.

* * *

**Such is Life**

_Don't panic._ _Do NOT panic._

Hermione had read, _of course_, that many women experienced spotting during their pregnancies, due to varied, entirely innocuous reasons. Hermione had read the best-selling books on pregnancy, from both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. Rarely, women even continued to have menses during their pregnancies. She had read that too. This little bit of spotting was doubtlessly unworthy of a panic attack. Her books said so. _This_ was just one of _those _small things. Hermione was sure. She had read it.

Still, Hermione concluded it would not hurt to gain reassurance. She Flooed to Draco's room, except, she found it empty. When she called for Misty, another elf appeared. Dressed in a fine butler's uniform, the elf bowed and addressed Hermione formally. His demeanour lacked any exhibit of sentiment.

"Miss called for Misty? Misty away," he offered in succinct tones, "I is Aldo. I help Miss?"

Aldo eyed Hermione's abdomen and his eyes strayed to her face momentarily before he found a spot on the wall behind her.

Though it took effort, Hermione did not want to rush and be discourteous. "How are you Aldo? Nice to meet you. Is Draco still home?"

The elf shook his head, his reply compendious. "Master Floo to Italy, Miss."

Hermione stood there thinking for a moment. "You can find him, can't you Aldo?"

"I? No Miss, but Misty yes. I find Misty. Misty find Master."

Hermione went to the large desk, scrambled for some stationary and hastily wrote a note. She handed the note to Aldo. "Can you send this with Misty to Draco, urgently please?"

Aldo nodded and disappeared with a pop.

Hermione was calm. She was certain everything was fine. If it were not, she was sure some instinct in her would have sensed it, somehow. She would know. Her instincts advised her that everything was fine. Panicking would just stress her Blueberry, so she wouldn't. It was just one of those things. She had overexerted herself over the weekend and her body was protesting, _that was all._ Could some common occurrence in the embryo's development cause benign bleeding? For once, Hermione could not recall details clearly.

From the Manor, Hermione Flooed directly to her healer's private clinic. Her arrival signalled a loud clanging bell that would undoubtedly inform Tara about the panicking mother-to-be at the clinic's threshold.

Tara appeared out of nowhere, still in her bedclothes. "What happened? How far are the contractions? When did they start? Breathe." As if just realising who she was talking to, Tara continued. "Oh, hello there, Hermione! What seems to be the problem? Where is Draco?"

Hermione mentioned the spotting to Tara and quickly enumerated her own suspicions for the cause, while the healer led Hermione to an examination room. Tara ran her wand over Hermione's womb. It emitted black sparks then sputtered to nothing. Tara's face fell and she turned heart breaking, moisture-filled eyes towards Hermione.

Not willing to accept the diagnosis that was bound to ensue, Hermione carefully got off the table and rushed out before the surprised Tara could react. Hermione returned to her flat and hastily wrote out another note.

"Zephyrus, this note is for Draco. He might be on his way back from Italy and on his way to Healer Tara's clinic at any time, so you may have to change course midway. Please, please hurry to him, as fast as you can fly." Zephyrus was out of her window by the time Hermione finished her sentence.

Hermione then called the emergency number for her Muggle doctor's clinic, and was scheduled for an appointment at eight o'clock. It was just approaching seven. Hermione took a shower and forced herself to eat some cereal; she needed to eat for her Blueberry.

Hermione's assistant, Alisha, lived on the fringes of the Muggle and magical worlds. Hermione's guidance through the years had helped the non-magical-Wizard-born (Hermione did not use the word 'squib') assimilate into the Muggle community. For convenience, the young girl carried a cellular phone; it did not work near the magic of the Ministry, but Alisha would not have left home yet. Hermione left a message that she was running late. She mentioned that if her health worsened, she might take a personal day off.

Hermione knew she would be fine, that Blueberry would be fine. _Technology can fix this. Technology can revive… There are so many cures that __Muggles__ have invented, far more advanced than anything in the __magical__ world. Blueberry is fine. I just have to stay __focussed._

Hermione took out her ill-used car and drove to the doctor's clinic in trepidation.

The receptionist at the clinic ushered Hermione in courteously. The friendly nurse, Angela, checked Hermione's BP, temperature and weight. All the while, Angela continued to assuage the fretting Hermione's fears, confirming that women sometimes bled for no apparent reason. However, the wise nurse did feel it necessary to mentally prepare Hermione for the worst.

"A million miracles have to happen at just the right time, in just the right way, to make a healthy baby. If anything is off, the body sometimes knows. It is healthier for the body to reject an imperfect embryo now, rather than later. Hermione, please know that whatever happens, it is not your fault. Though I am sure that everything will be peachy!"

Hermione changed into a white robe for her trans-vaginal ultrasound. The plump, matronly technician spoke soothingly while she checked the readings. Very kindly, the technician told Hermione that she was indeed, having a miscarriage. Her Blueberry's heart was not beating.

In many ways, time stopped for Hermione. It remained stuck there, in that place, for months to come. It took her that long to come to terms with all she had lost to that morning.

The technician spoke of how she hated this part of the job. She tried to console Hermione that it was much worse if a defect was found in the _later _months. Then, the burden of decision fell on the hapless parents, rather than on nature. She tried to console Hermione, telling her how another patient had suffered from a miscarriage three months ago and returned just the previous week, happily pregnant again, with twins. Hermione nodded and smiled, remaining absolutely calm, unfailingly polite, completely in control, utterly composed, except for the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

The nurse and technician plied her with comforting platitudes that meant little. They told her to expect painful contractions and clotting. They asked her if she wanted to avoid those by scheduling the procedure to remove the remains. They warned that the procedure came with the risk of an infection. Hermione almost screamed at them. This inside her, those were not _remains, _that was her _baby_ and no, she did not want anything metal to suck him out. Hermione wanted to leave. She wanted to grieve in the privacy of her home.

Hermione walked out of the examination room to find Draco waiting in the clinic's waiting room. He sat there on a chair, his ashen face set in wood, his body stiff. As soon as he saw Hermione, he got up. Hermione stood there, her emotions playing across her face. He stood there, his face impossible to read.

After what could have been a year, Draco came forward and encompassed Hermione in a hug that undid her. For a second, the horrible ache in her chest stemmed. Then it returned, manifold. The tears she had dammed just recently, fell unbidden. Her body shuddered. Draco rested her head on his chest, one hand in her hair, the other lending strength to her back. They did not speak.

Looking back at that day, and those that followed, Hermione could not bring to mind much, not very clearly anyway. Fragments… disjointed events, were all she could recall. She remembered the pain, both emotional, and physical.

She remembered being at her flat with Draco. She remembered them walking to the loveseat where he just sat holding her till the sun set. She could not be sure if they had the TV on or off. She remembered that most of the times, she was calm, numb.

"I should have told you before, Misty can locate me wherever I am, as long as she has my permission. You should have known that. I should have left Misty answerable to you. You should not have had to run around, struggling to find me. I should have been there with you. You should not have had to find out alone." He shook his head in anger. "I went to Tara's first and she told me… she sent some potions for the pain. I knew where you would head next. Zephyrus found me outside the Muggle clinic. When I entered, Angela told me you were on your way out."

"I should have been there." Draco's head fell back against the sofa. His eyes were closed.

Hermione patted the hand that still held hers. "There was no way to know. You are here now."

Hermione closed her eyes.

Hermione remembered that Draco had tended to her, tended with care one would not have considered him capable of. He was quiet. He was calm. He was there.

"Draco, it hurts."

"I know, Mi." He gave her a potion for the pain of the contractions, another to help her stay calm. Then he lay beside her and read to her from the newest edition of _Hogwarts, A History_.

Hermione remembered that _some _times, she allowed herself to experience, the overwhelmingly potent force of her breaking heart. The glass surfaces in her bathroom cracked and shattered. Her baby was gone, her little Blueberry.

Hermione remembered how angry she was with herself, never with God, but so often with herself. She remembered the guilt.

"It's my fault, it's all my fault. I was careless. I thought I was indestructible, our baby was indestructible. Sometimes I woke up at night and found myself sleeping on my stomach. I worked long hours, I didn't eat enough. I didn't eat on time. I used so much magic. I didn't eat the fish oil capsules regularly enough, maybe I didn't get enough sleep, maybe I should have done something else, something more. We should have switched to organic foods, they don't have the pesticides. We should have got a filter for the tap, pesticide levels in drinking water peak during spring and summer. A study is underway that links the pesticide levels to higher rates of miscarriages during this time of the year. I should have been more careful. All the packaged food we eat, so much of it has MSG and they don't even mention it. I climbed that ladder at the Ministry library. I could have fallen but still I climbed it. Maybe I didn't deserve a baby, maybe I didn't want it enough? Maybe because I wanted a boy and it was a girl? Maybe I am not doing what I need to accomplish in life, and wasn't deemed ready for a baby yet. It's my fault, I did so many things wrong. I hurt the baby. I didn't deserve our baby. I didn't deserve Blueberry."

Draco forced her head up with a hooked finger on her chin. "Hermione, please listen to me. This is _not _your fault. I need you to understand that, love. Please? You were doing the best you could. It just happened. You heard what the healer said, it happens to twenty percent first-time pregnancies. It just happened. It was not you. It was just not meant to be."

Hermione remembered how quiet it got. Draco was quiet, as was she. That evening passed without much conversation.

She remembered that night.

Hermione had not slept a wink. The clock read 2:12 am when she felt the vibrations on the bed.

Draco was sobbing in his sleep.

It distressed her to watch him writhe like that, his face contorted by misery. She almost reached forward to wipe the sweat off his damp forehead and the tears off his distraught face, but she hesitated. Draco suppressed his emotions too forcefully, too often. He would not allow himself the human luxury of experiencing and finding expression for his grief. He needed to, if not consciously, then subconsciously.

In a perverse way, it helped to know her grief was shared.

His trembling body stilled after an unmeasured phase of the night. Hermione finally closed the distance to place a hand over his heart. Still restive, Draco moved in his sleep to place his head between her breasts. Hermione stroked his back, slowly soothing him into quiet slumber. She stayed awake.

Hermione remembered the next morning. She remembered a single bird outside her window, a worm still wriggling in its mouth.

Draco glanced at the clock as he exited the bathroom. He had just showered, but was dressed in his nightclothes again.

Life had to resume and she had to be the one to initiate. Hermione handed Draco his wand from the bedside. "You should go to Italy. You left yesterday without explanations. If you miss work, everyone will wonder. They might ask."

Draco kept the wand back on the table. "I don't care. I own the bloody business. I do not answer to anyone. Zabini can handle some of the dealings, I will let him know."

"What excuse will you give? It is okay. I am okay. You were here yesterday, you can't babysi… it is fine, Draco, go to work. Come by later, if you are not too tired?"

Draco assessed her, the room and the window. "If you are sure?"

"I will be fine. I am fine, just need to sleep. What will you do sitting here?"

Draco nodded and came to her, kissed her forehead and turned to leave. At the door he paused and turned.

"If you need me, send Misty. Tell her to come to me directly, no matter what. Should I… that is, do you want me to tell your mother, or Ginny, so they can be with you?"

Hermione was surprised. "No… no. I don't want them to know. I don't want to talk to anyone. In fact, if your mother knows, I don't want to hear from her either."

Draco looked pensive. "Harry?"

"No. I'll send him an owl."

"Misty will help with the house. You should rest."

Before Hermione could oppose that idea, Draco had snapped his fingers and whispered the house elf's name. A pop later, a bewildered Misty was standing in front of them. She looked up questioningly at Draco and then saw Hermione in bed. Tears the size of lemon drops fell from the devoted elf's eyes.

"Misty is sorry, Master, Miss. Misty is so sorry." She rocked back and forth on her feet, hugging her waist with her little arms. Hermione felt irritation at the emotional display. She did not want emotional displays. She did not want any emotions. She wanted numbness, numb was good. This? This was just annoying.

"For Merlin's sake, Draco, I don't need anyone right now. I'd rather be alone. Please send her back!"

Draco looked exasperated, which now made Hermione feel responsible. It was not the sensitive house-elf's fault that Hermione was irascible. Now, she would have to save Misty's hide, otherwise Merlin knew what Draco would spew in wrath.

"Never mind. Misty, could you please be a dear and go down to the kitchen? I would love some more tea. Your Master is improving everyday, but he still hasn't mastered the art of brewing tea yet. He thinks everything should taste bitter and burnt, like his coffee. You'll have to look for everything, so take your time. I am in no hurry. Thank you."

Misty hurriedly wiped her large eyes and walked out the door diffidently. Draco's expression was indecipherable again, his eyes unreadable.

Hermione saw that it was five minutes after eight in the morning. Draco was late already. She urged him to leave, and he did.

Hermione turned on the TV and flipped through channels. Not finding anything interesting, she returned to her TIVO list and played _Pride and Prejudice_ again. For the duration of the movie she was transported to another time, her own misery sidelined till the contractions interrupted to remind her. She spent much of the day frequenting the loo, going through labour pains that were to bring her naught. Her body was rejecting the now lifeless placenta. Her baby flushed down the toilet, somewhere in the innumerable clots. Her chest ripped, no lungs left to scream.

Misty mostly sat with Hermione in her room, quietly watching the strangely moving pictures in a box. The elf did not allude to the miscarriage again. Draco might have had a word with her after all.

Hermione sent Zephyrus to the Ministry, to inform them that she was availing sick leave; it was the first time in eight years of work that she had done so. She wrote that she had contracted Hippogriff Pox, an extremely contagious virus that had afflicted many at the Ministry in the last month. No one in his or her right mind would visit.

Hermione remembered being grateful for Misty's presence. The elf cooked a light meal that Hermione did not remember. Misty made a poultice with herbs to help with the pain. It was nice to have someone in the flat; it kept Hermione distracted from herself.

Hermione remembered how difficult it had been to word the message to Harry.

_There was a problem. I miscarried._

No more than fifteen minutes had passed since she had sent Zephyrus, that her friend apparated into her living room. Harry sat down slowly next to her on the sofa. He tucked her head into his chest, draped a comforting arm around her shoulder and stayed there for hours, saying little. She valued his quiet strength and its comfort more than any words he could have misguidedly uttered. She finally persuaded him to leave in the evening.

At 7:15 pm Draco Flooed in, recently showered. He must have gone to the Manor first. Had he told his mother? How had she reacted? Hermione decided she was not keen to find out.

Draco was subdued, he asked about her day and Hermione replied in monosyllables. She asked him about work, he replied in monosyllables. Once Misty had served dinner, he sent her home and they ate in front of the TV.

The week passed without much conversation, as did the month.

Draco began to spend significantly more time at Quidditch practice, for an upcoming European Tour.

According to the press, Draco was "flying like a maniac these days" in a series of friendly matches against some local teams. Much to the paying spectators' dismay, Draco had caught the snitch within five minutes of play, in the last three games. Andy Flintoff, the sports columnist for the _Daily Prophet_, attributed Draco's "stellar performance to the gruelling training hours the Cannons had adopted recently."

Hermione knew about those training sessions, Draco had been practicing till midnight most days this week.

Hermione remembered devastatingly well, how Draco had withdrawn little by little, over the month that followed. He still spent his nights at Hermione's, but he came late and left early. When at her flat, he spent the majority of his time in her study. Silence ruled their conversations and neither offered explanation, nor resolution. He hugged her at night when they lay in bed together, but rolled away soon after.

Initially, Hermione had assumed that he was dealing with loss in his own unique way. Little by little, the awkward certainty dawned on her. Their time together had come to an end. For the first time in his life, playboy Draco Malfoy did not know how to end a stagnating relationship.

Above all else, Hermione was a practical woman. She learnt to accept it for what it was. One day, she almost asked him to leave. She was weary of the angst he brought into her life; almost as fatigued as he presumably felt, of the anxiety she brought to his ordered existence.

Draco was going to leave for the Quidditch tour in a few days. Hermione deduced they were both using that excuse to avoid a scene. Had he asked, she would have been happy to join him during the tour, at nights and on the weekends. He had not.

Draco would probably not return to her. Hermione would read about him and a celebrity woman in the paper, they would sporadically come across each other at social occasions, if he allowed it, and that would be that. C'est la vie.

It was easier said than done. Her heart was broken many times over and no potion could cure the ailment of an exhausted soul.

Hermione remembered the morning that Draco left for the European Quidditch Tour. That morning, she remembered with excruciating detail.

Hermione had not slept well that night. Every time Draco stirred, she woke with a feeling of trepidation.

Hermione was not sure how she would deal with her fickle emotions once Draco left. Maybe she would not remember Blueberry as much, with Draco around less to remind her? She wondered how she would feel recovered, with two voids in place of one.

Hermione heard Draco's alarm go off at five in the morning. He turned it off quickly, as he did when he did not wish to disturb her. She turned over to look at him, staying on her side of the bed. They lay there, quietly watching each other. He brought his hand to her face and tucked her hair behind her ear. He started to say something, but she saw him change his mind, she saw the shutters come down. Draco was gone already. She smiled.

"Goodbye, Malfoy. I will see you, when I see you."

_Shuttered_ still the mask of choice, that beloved face came closer and placed a kiss on her forehead. He had packed last night, so when he got out of bed, Hermione was not entirely surprised to see him pick up his bag and head down. She heard the dismal, concluding _woosh _of the Floo.

Hermione berated herself for feeling dejected. She had been hoping for some more time with him. Perhaps some exchange of words, maybe an _'it's been fun'_ over their morning cup of tea? Some closure? Still in bed, she consoled herself that it was as it ought. Draco's leaving was best for her. She could now begin to heal.

Hermione got up and removed a bottle of Tree Draught from the supply she had brewed recently, downing the contents of two vials. She went back to bed and did not get out the entire day.

Hermione followed Quidditch in the papers, catching glimpses of Ron and Draco every once in a while, waving to cheering crowds. She had avoided going over to Harry and Ginny's for a while, having gotten away with just a lunch with both one Friday. That also, she had kept brief with work as an excuse.

It had been about a month and a half since her miscarriage and about ten days since Draco had left. Hermione was at work when Serapha flew in through the open door, landing carefully in the small clear space on the large desk. Hermione's heart sped up at seeing Draco's owl.

Serapha dropped a sealed note and pecked Hermione's hand affectionately, asking to be petted.

"I've missed you, you lovely bird. I think Zephyrus has missed you too. Tell me, when he flies away for hours, is he secretly trysting with you? I swore I saw your feather on him the other day, he doesn't have your golden hue."

Serapha flew to the shelf where Hermione usually kept her owl treats and waited patiently for her reward of unseasoned popcorn, while Hermione opened the letter.

The scroll was blank. Absolutely, completely, starkly devoid of any words whatsoever. She checked it in various ingenious ways for hidden messages, but there were none. Hermione wept. Draco had nothing to say to her.

Then, Hermione smiled. Draco did not know what to say, yet, he wanted her to know he was thinking of her; though he knew not, how to say _that_ either. He would have known she would spend ages checking the scroll for hidden messages. In his own way, Draco Malfoy had just played a prank. She understood the simplicity, yet the profoundness of the act.

She took out a packet from her desk; these spicy potato wedges were the speciality of a Muggle bakery near her parent's home. Draco had a weakness for these. In the past year alone Hermione had got him at least fifteen or so packs. She ate all but one of the wedges, wrapped the near-empty packet carefully and handed it to Serapha to take back for Draco. He would have to spend time inspecting one wedge for booby-trap spells. It would be dreadfully dissatisfying for him to have to take the time to check for foul play, all for the one wedge, just waiting to be eaten.

This little exchange helped Hermione much.

Over all, Hermione was nowhere as healed as she had hoped to be. When she saw pregnant women, she ducked into bathrooms or shop-windows to surreptitiously wipe her eyes. When she saw little children, she felt a sharp pang in her chest, a physical ache that would not ebb for hours. When she saw a blond head, she thought of the baby-soft silver her hands had come to know so well. Even despite the Tree Draught, she found herself sitting on the kitchen floor one night, sobbing uncontrollably because she found old, forgotten blueberries in her fridge. One day, when she was looking for something else entirely, she found Draco's birthday card, the one _from_ Blueberry. She forced herself to throw out the agonizing reminders of her unborn child, though she could not bring herself to throw the ultrasound picture; that, she vanished to her storage. She then crawled into bed and lay there, curled up in the foetal position.

No, she was not as healed as she would have liked, but at least she had desisted feeling like a walking zombie. Everyday, she felt just a little more life, a little more energy come back into her. That would have to do.

It was Friday evening, about two months since her miscarriage and three weeks since Draco had left. Hermione was filing away her papers for the evening, though she planned to be back during the weekend. The door to her office opened at 5pm sharp and Hermione was surprised to see Ginny standing there with a glowing Lilliana.

"Hello there Miss Granger, I thought I'd have my daughter visit you, since you can't find the time to visit her."

"Come now, Ginny, you know it isn't like that! I just have been busy, that is all. Here, give me my goddaughter."

Hermione made to hold Lilliana, who seemed to recognize her, and smilingly came into her arms. Lilliana had been in Hermione's embrace for less than a minute, when she started sobbing loudly, spouting big tears and laboured breathing. Alarmed, Hermione hastily gave Lilliana back to her mother.

"What was it, did I hold her wrong? Did something pinch her, did I not support her head right?"

Lilliana started to calm down as soon as she was back in Ginny's arms, though she still hiccupped, looking anxious.

Ginny shook her head sadly. "It was you, Hermione. Not what you did, but _you_."

"Ginny, you didn't!" Hermione staggered backward, stunned.

"Not on purpose, no. We ran out of the empathy-blocking draught Snape had given us because James accidentally kicked a ball right into the cupboard. Snape's brewing another round… he'll have it ready by tomorrow. _What_? Don't look at me like that! This is not my fault, it's yours! You have avoided meeting us for over a month, if not two. I figured that Draco had left for his tour and you would be a little lonely. I was wondering when you would use me as a shoulder to vent. When you avoided meeting me, I knew something was wrong, but you weren't telling. You left me no choice Hermione. Now, you're coming home with me this instant, and I will not listen to any lame excuses about work! The department can manage without you working one weekend."

Hermione grudgingly closed her office for the day and followed Ginny to the Floo. The Potter residence seemed peaceful. James was at the Burrow with his cousins and Harry was away at work. Ginny brewed some tea, gave a bottle to Lilliana and settled the child in her crib.

"Now Hermione, out with it. What's going on? You look like death. Harry says Draco's been acting like a jerk for a while. Have you two split up?"

"Harry is in touch with Draco?"

"You know they stay in touch on a regular basis."

"No, I didn't."

"Have you split up?"

"Yes."

"Did he break up with you?"

"No, he tried his best not to, I think. It just happened though."

Ginny rubbed at her temples. "What do you mean? Something must have happened. The last time we met you both, you were radiant and he was strutting you around like a trophy he couldn't keep his eyes off. You don't go from there to nothing, without a reason. What happened? Did he cheat on you?"

Hermione's head shot up. "Oh no. No. Not that."

"Then what Hermione? Obviously something's making you very sad. You're obviously not sharing it with anyone. Why can't you tell me? If you don't feel comfortable talking to me, then let me get Harry or Ron… please talk to them."

"No, it's not that, Ginny. I'm sorry, I did not realize I was making you feel this way."

"This isn't about me Hermione. It's about you. You've always been here for us all. I can't help but feel that you need someone… but we aren't around for you now. Harry with the Auror job, Ron with his Quidditch and the new marriage… me with my children. I feel guilty Hermione. Please, talk to me so I can feel like I can be there for you too."

Hermione rested her head in her hands, as she leaned into the breakfast table. Maybe she needed this? A catharsis.

"I'm in love with Draco, Ginny." When Ginny just looked at her encouragingly, Hermione added, "I have been for eight years."

Ginny contemplated on that. "There's something else going on though. You've been in love with Draco all these years, something else happened to make you this sad. Why did you break up? You guys seemed giddily enamoured at Ron's wedding and so happy that night at dinner."

Hermione steeled herself for this. She had not actually spoken this out loud to anyone.

"We were happy because I was pregnant, Ginny."

"You were! Wait, you _were_?"

Hermione sighed and turned her head to gaze out the window. She spoke with as little emotion as she could, "I miscarried two months ago. Things just sort of fell out of place after that."

Ginny got up, came over and hugged Hermione tightly.

"I am so sorry Mione, I am so, so sorry."

Ginny scooted over her chair be able to sit and still hold Hermione's hand. Hermione saw Ginny tear up but was grateful for the lack of a protracted outburst. She wanted neither pity nor sympathy, she would not know how to deal with them.

Hermione found herself telling Ginny about Draco. How, a conversation about Hermione wanting children, had turned her life upside down. How Draco had been the absolute perfect consort and father-to-be, how she had never seen that tender and ridiculously protective side of him before. In calm, even tones, she told Ginny about the miscarriage and the misery that had ensued.

Tears were streaming down both their faces by the end of the hour, but Hermione felt lighter than she had in a month. She had not shared much of her feelings with Draco. They had both retreated into their caves, licking their wounds, unwilling to unmask and be vulnerable to that extent. With Ginny, however, Hermione had no apprehensions about maintaining appearances and boundaries. So, Hermione sat there, drank the tea that Ginny kept refilled in her cup, talked and cried.

Ginny splayed her hands in regret. "I wished I'd asked you earlier. I'm sorry you've had to go through all this alone, Hermione. I wish I'd known. I get so caught up with the drama of my kids and my Auror husband, but that's not good enough an excuse."

Hermione clasped her friend's extended hand. "It wasn't you Ginny, it was me. How would you know if I refused to even meet you? I think I just needed some time, for it all to sink in. I promise to be around more now, so you don't feel like you need to resort to using your daughter to glean my state of emotions."

They both smiled. Ginny reached to hug her again. "Come now, help me make some dinner that you are going to eat with us. And since you're staying with us tonight, you might as well go put your purse in the guest room and freshen up before we start."

Hermione stayed that night at the Potters, though Harry still hadn't come home when she headed to bed. Ginny had received an owl warning her he might be late. The next morning, Hermione came down to see a haggard Harry having a cup of coffee. He smiled when he saw her, appearing genuinely relieved and pleased at her presence.

Hermione grinned back. "Hey, there. Fancy bumping into you here."

Harry snorted. "Small world and all."

"Auror business keeping you away from home and hearth? Anything I can help with?"

Harry kept down his coffee mug. "Actually, there is. You haven't heard any thing about Vicot approaching anyone at the sanctuary again, have you? Maybe a student mentioned it to you?"

"No, nothing. Why, is everything all right? I owled him a few weeks ago, but did not hear back."

"Just wondering about Ashram security. I've set up some additional wards at the campus, guarding it against former students. I heard you added some measures too. I was thinking about heading there tomorrow, haven't been there in a while. Want to come with?"

"It's a date." Hermione grinned innocently at Ginny's raised eyebrows, as she walked in at the end of the conversation.

Ginny whacked her husband's head in mock disapproval. "If I didn't know any better, I swear I wouldn't let the two of you come within a foot of each other without a chaperone. The tales that people tell! You know the tabloids call you '_Harmonie'_, right?"

Hermione stared aghast while Harry _breathed_ in his coffee, coughing. "_What_?" Hermione exclaimed while Ginny dutifully patted Harry's back.

Ginny nodded knowlingly. "Yes, while people speculating about you and Draco refer to you as '_Dramione_'."

Harry interrupted, his irritation obvious. "How many times have I asked you to stop reading that non-sense?"

Ginny did not seem fazed. "Harry Potter, you try sitting at home with two kids all day, for five years. I'll see how you don't read anything you can lay on your hands on. There's always a fresh supply of magazines and tabloids with Bridget and Angela. It's hard not to read it, especially if it's for free. You know I don't believe any of the things they print. It's just entertainment value, what they believe our lives to be. _Lifestyles of the rich and famous_. Merlin knows where they come up with the stuff. According to them, you and I have twenty house-elves that take care of our children, while I lounge in spas and shop till I drop. Everyday." Ginny shook her head in mild disgust.

Harry put his arm around Ginny's waist. "They are idiots, aren't they?"

Ginny nodded. "Complete."

After a refreshing breakfast, Hermione headed home despite the Potters' protests. She really did have some work to attend to, especially if she was to spend her Sunday at Ashram.

Hermione reached home at around seven in the evening. She prepared and ate pasta, read a book on Energy Healing and was asleep by eleven.

A loud crack of apparition jarred her to alert wakefulness. Wand in hand, she yelled a Lumos.

Draco was standing there, his clothes torn and bloody, wide gashes along his chest and long scratches on his face. His shirtsleeve had been ripped off to form a makeshift, bloodied bandage on his arm.

"We have to stop meeting like this." Draco smiled gingerly, right before he collapsed on her bed.

~0~

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For the next chapter, I find myself held back by writer's block. I know where I am headed, but I find myself unable to head there. As before, your feedback ought undoubtedly help give coherence to abstract impressions. Your support is invaluable for me. **For the Dolphins, it is essential.**


	35. The Coalescing of Odd Facts

In how many ways do I love thee? Too many, far too many! Your amazing reviews definitely helped jar me out of my writer's block. The support, wishes, encouragement, chanting, emotional blackmails, requests, death threats and offers for psychiatric evaluations/medication all helped dramatically ;) I just hope you find the resultant chapters worth it! My gratitude to these recent **reviewers** (in order of reviewing): EverAfter13, Fantasy Trickster, Jade2099, caseyjarryn, Super-girl-straight-from-hell, xxDracoDragonxx, ebbe04, The nameless soul, margaritama, brandonlov, kavii, ginnylovesharry07, Swimming-Gal, tfobmv18, Cb623, blueidpanda, Liz16, JillianUnleashed, lily, ?, evenstar101, Italian Rose, squash, nathy7, ladydraco79, AmberBrightEyes, HarryPGinnyW4eva, DaOnLeeSam, Bee-z05, MissMally, Li0n3ss, mentarisenja, Frozen Darkness, Dianafefe1, lovelyru, steff.c, rats, Simkey, mw87, Lilmissxx, blueskyshymoon08, Slytherinchica08, iampast1, Pixie-Fate, kee, Coeur de l'amour, scarlettcat, Tiff, jadeskullz, spikeecat, SolarGuardianChick and Jufuzle19

~For the **Twilighters** among my dear readers, a wink in the direction of the , there are various descriptions in pop culture, on how a vampire is sired. **For the purpose of this fic, I chose to stick to the theory that the victim needs to bite back the vampire and drink the vampire's blood, to be turned.** The Twilight/ Buffy version (changing into a Vampire by being bitten alone) doesn't work here.

**~Credit to the ammmmazing Li0n3ss for betaing this chapter. **I am most grateful for her support since day one of posting this fic. She was one of the first reviewers who encouraged me to continue VS abandoning a possibly futile effort. She has reviewed every single chapter since. It may not mean much to many, but it means more than I could thank her for. Once again, I find myself indebted to this very talented lady. **Her depiction of a hard-ass Hermione in her story, single-handedly prevented my Hermione from becoming a simpering wimp** (I hope!). The other day I even dreamed of her hilarious birthday cake one-shot ;) I have changed this chapter since her betaing, so mistakes are all mine!

On this portal of fanfic, I am thankful and humbled at how easily, you, we, from possibly divergent countries, can become the sincerest of pals. We only have to give each other a chance. Now, if only our leaders read fanfic too, we could have a more peaceful world!

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**The Coalescing of Odd Facts**

"Draco?! What happened?"

Fallen supine, lying still on her bed, Draco opened one weary eye; as if, it was all the stamina he could muster.

"Vampires..."

"Did you bite it back?" Hermione panicked. If Draco had tasted the Vampire's blood, he could be changing into one this very moment, as the blood spread through his veins and beat through his heart!

"No, Mi. Not turning into a vamp any… soon. Venom," Draco pointed at the many open puncture wounds on his arm and one on the side of his neck. His face and exposed body displayed additional battle marks; sharp cuts, jagged wounds, scrapes and the beginnings of large bruises. Through his torn shirt, Hermione could see a deep gash on his chest. Were those scratches from a vampire's nails? The torn-sleeve bandage on his arm was black, so she couldn't tell how much blood he had lost, and how much of the venom had spread. His blue lips and greying pallor were not a reassuring indication. At his most tanned, Draco looked pale as a Vampire himself. Presently, he looked like death resurrected.

"Let me help you up, I'll slide you along to St Mungo's."

"No. You or Snape." Draco winced and abandoned the attempt to shake his head.

"Draco you need medical attention. I know basic healing, but you have vampire venom coursing through your veins. One bite I could have dealt with, even two, but these are too many! You could be paralysed in minutes! Merlin knows how many times this vampire bit you. I don't have potent enough potions with me. Let me call a healer home."

Hermione started to rise but Draco's hand landed on her wrist, holding her down. She was surprised at the strength of his tone and his grip, before it slackened in exhaustion. "Granger, no."

When Draco spoke again, it was in short, pained tones. "Floo… Snape… five."

"Five what?"

"Five vampires."

Hermione sucked in a deep breath before rushing to her fireplace downstairs. She cursed herself for not having the foresight to have stored a large enough supply of potions at home. She cursed herself for not having a fireplace in her bedroom. Draco was alone up there and her anxiety rose, overwhelmingly, with each step away.

Casting some Floo powder into the fire, Hermione shouted clearly, "Professor Snape's chambers, Hogwarts."

Hermione ducked her head into the flames, neither eager to leave her flat, nor ready to invade the privacy of the ascetic man's private sanctum. "Professor Snape? Professor Snape?" Hermione waited for a few seconds before shouting his name again. No lights turned on. No sounds of surprise, none of welcome.

_Snape's not here!! No one is!!!_

Hermione retracted her head and sat kneeling on the hard floor, her head resting on the brick fireplace. She felt bile and panic rising. It took her a moment to remember that Hogwarts was closed for summer vacations, with children having returned home during the third week of June. Many of the graduating class had already found jobs and moved out of Ashram.

"Professor Snape's house, Spinner's End," Hermione shouted at the Floo and leaned in even before the flames turned green, singing her hair that overpowering flavour of burnt keratin.

"Professor Snape, if you are here, please… Draco is seriously injured. Professor? Please be here."

Hermione heard the blessed scrape of furniture and then, hasty footsteps. From behind the screen that segregated the fireplace from the room, appeared a pair of well-shaped, bare feet. Her eyes followed the long legs clad in simple dark blue pyjamas. That the Potions Master was not encased in a cloak was somehow unsettling. Snape sans billowing garment was oddly less iconic, though no more convivial.

"Ms Granger?" His mordant drawl concealed any concern he may have felt.

"Professor," Hermione sped through her request breathlessly, "Draco has multiple vampire bites and other wounds. Five vampires. I have not yet inspected for internal injuries. He refuses to go to St Mungo's and asked for you. Could you please Floo to my flat as soon as you have collected the appropriate potions? I'll leave the connection open. Please?"

Hermione found herself noticing Snape's paling face; worry now lined his forehead and thinned his lips. His nod was the only acknowledgement she received before he turned sharply and disappeared behind the screen.

It dawned on Hermione belatedly that she had been allowed to open a connection to Snape's private quarters, and was taken aback that the recluse, at some point in his life, had deemed her worthy of that access.

Hermione rushed back up to Draco, recalling pertinent contents from two books that she had recently read on vampires.

_The vampire's venom anaesthetises its victims. Even before that though, it inhibits the production of adrenaline in the human body. Then, it stimulates the release of endorphins, inducing in the victim the delusion of a 'high'. This may explain, to an extent, the fascination that some humans ensconce for the terrifying creatures, even offering themselves up to be vassals to provide a continued source of blood. In this way, the venom imbibes in the victim a state of benumbed semi-consciousness; making it easy for the vampire to hunt an evasive prey. _

_In the event of multiple bites, from multiple vampires, the significant over-dosage of venom usually proves to be lethal for the hapless quarry. The odds are not in the favour of a human when more than one vampire deigns to feed from a single body. If miraculously, the wounded is rescued from said situation, the potent cocktail of venom can still cause shock, paralysis, coma or death._

How _had_ Draco ended up in a fracas with the vampires? She ignored the many pieces of an undefined jigsaw, falling wilfully into place.

_Leave it be for now, for Draco's sake._

Hermione determinedly cleared her head from the assault of reflections and conclusions. She scanned the catatonic Draco with her wand for internal bleeding and broken bones. There were three; a broken rib, a hair-line fracture on his shin and a dislocated shoulder.

She did not hear Snape arrive by Floo, nor did he make a sound ascending the staircase, but she heard him hesitate outside her bedroom's open door. She turned to him and nodded. Her room seemed to shrink in Snape's presence, as he transfigured a pillow into a worktable for himself, laying out several odd-shaped bottles and jars. One of the transparent large jars had live leeches swimming restlessly. By now, the state of affairs had taken on a nightmarish quality. Draco, lying injured, once again, like in seventh year. This time _Snape_ come to attend. She wanted to leave; she did not want to see Draco's blood, especially this soon after Blueberry's. This was not supposed to happen. She was not ready.

"Ms Granger, you may assist me if you believe yourself capable of following undemanding instructions without a tome to refer. However, if you propose to remain this absurdly ineffective, you will leave now and send me Draco's house elf. I have little patience for foolish sentimentality and none for torpid inaction."

_Why can't these Slytherins talk like nomal people?_

At least, Hermione observed, the man's derision had shaken her out of her futile panic. Twice in her lifetime had such dread immobilised her. Both times, the catalyst had been the spectacle of Draco's blood.

Snape asked Hermione to decontaminate Draco's wounds. Hermione vanished Draco's clothes to cleanse the injuries with both spells and the tincture that Snape supplied without comment or reaction. He began to stir a potion into a salve, quietly, with unreserved concentrations. Soon the resultant mixture emitted a faint blue glow that Hermione distinguished with ease. This was the Solio serum, a potion that emitted ultra-violet rays invisible to the naked eye; rays that were lethal to the bacteria residing in vampire venom.

"Drinking this will cause ulcers, severe heartburn and stomach ache tomorrow." Snape also enumerated the side effects of the salve that he applied over the bites and scratches, as Draco grunted in disapproval. "The topical salve will bring forth symptoms of sunburn; burning, itching and redness." The older man looked almost amused now, "Mister Malfoy will survive the bites, but his fragile vanity may not."

The self-possessed man then opened his jar of leeches, removing several creatures with tweezers, to lay them near the bite-sites. Draco winced, growled at Snape and finally surrendered to unconsciousness.

"The Dark Lord and vampires out for blood, he can take. Leeches? He faints. Fascinating." Snape's stoic face featured immoral delight at this unexpected reward for services tendered.

Hermione had no doubt that the Slytherin snake in Snape would hold this weakness over his former student, for a long time to come. She, on the other hand, could understand why the leeches were one trauma too many for Draco. Hermione shuddered but refrained from protesting. The scientific, Muggle-born part of her rebelled against the idea of leeches being attached to _her_ Draco's body, but she knew the venom-infected blood needed to be sucked out. Medieval Muggle medicasters and mountebank barber-surgeons had foolishly undertaken an imitation of the treatment, draining blood employing uninformed, aggressive quackery with fatal results.

Hermione wrapped her arms around her griping stomach as she rocked to and fro on the balls of her feet.

_It's all right… He'll be fine… They are necessary…Therapeutic blood-letting… by a leech… using judicious precautions… under responsible, well-informed supervision… can be beneficial… it has been practiced for… thousands of years… safely. Snape is responsible… Snape is well informed. Snape knows what he is doing. Now, breathe… slowly, inhale to count of six… exhale, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Inhale…_

Each leech would suck out around five millilitres of blood over half an hour or so, and then release it's multi-jawed, parasitic hold, when replete. The leech's saliva, Hermione knew, contained anaesthetics, vasodilators and anti coagulants; to numb, increase blood flow and prevent clotting. The wound would continue to slowly seep, draining around hundred and fifty millilitres of blood from each site for ten or more hours.

Snape straightened from over Draco to examine Hermione's pale face. "Do try to reign in your joy, Miss Granger," he sneered. "The leeches are attached to the veins. We need to ensure that Mister Malfoy is being given the Blood-Replenishing potion every half hour for the next ten hours. That should flush tainted blood out and prevent infections. Evanesco the leeches as they fall off. The bandages you apply over the leech bites will need to be changed every hour. Do you require some potion for yourself? Some brandy, perhaps?"

Hermione shook her head slowly. Snape handed her bandages and she dressed the vampire bites on Draco's porcelain skin, while Snape observed with a critical eye. When she was finished, Snape nodded. "Adequate. Have you contacted Narcissa Malfoy?"

Hermione was taken by aback, "No, unfortunately, it did not occur to me to send her an owl."

Snape's expression changed from blank to indecipherable. "Perhaps that is fortuitous. I doubt Draco desires to perturb his mother. He will inform her as he deems necessary."

Snape scanned the room, his expression reminiscent of his distaste over examining an ill-prepared potion from Neville's cauldron. "I should remain accessible for the next few hours, but do not care to impose."

Hermione could appreciate his awkwardness in her bedroom. "It is we who inconvenienced you. Your presence here gives me the utmost reassurance. No one could have attended to Draco's health better. Thank you."

Snape's acceptance of her gratitude was a shrewd gaze and an almost imperceptible nod.

Hermione showed the Snape to the guest bedroom and returned to resume her vigil next to Draco. Though providing first-aid and preliminary healing for creature-related injuries was a prerequisite for her job, one Hermione was skilled at, she did not have unlimited access to the innumerable concoctions of a Potion Master. Snape's remedy stock was legendary. Even the healers at St Mungo's sometimes, diffidently, approached him for complex potions to cure rare conditions. Even if it came ladled with the acerbic sarcasm, Hermione felt a calm reassurance in the man's proximity.

It was nearing three in the morning, when she sat down next to Draco; the first opportunity for quietude since he had apparated into her room. Hermione finally let her random observations coalesce. She had long suspected that Draco and Harry were hiding something, but kept her nose at bay, for all their sakes. _This_, however, this showing up bloodied and near lifeless, required looking into. It begged investigating.

Little instances nudged themselves into Hermione's consciousness as she spent the remainder of the night going through the vampire psychology sections of _Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires_ by Eldred Worple and _Voyages With Vampires_ by Gilderoy Lockhart.

They had thought Hermione had indulged in a school-girl crush on Gilderoy Lockhart for his affected charm.

_Libellous, completely unimaginative!_

Hermione reluctantly admitted to her person that her younger, ignorant self had fantasized about making house with the much older professor… but one had to understand… he had written _so_ many books! Hermione had supposed him to have _lived_ the knowledge, not stolen it from obliviated souls!

Regardless of the form of procurement of knowledge and the unmerited glory accredited to his self, the facts in Lockhart's books were sound. The information about vampires, reported in _Voyages_ was based on the stolen diary of a Muggle teenaged girl near Seattle, who had fallen in love with a 'vegetarian' vampire. That teenager, now a vampire herself, was a celebrity in magical United States, deeply respected for her work. She had helped bring accord between vampire clans and traditionally adversarial werewolf tribes; even campaigned for improved rights for werewolves in America. This was a cause close to Hermione's heart. Unlike her many predecessors, Hermione had actively sought to regulate werewolf concerns. She had loathed the bureaucratic oversight of decades past when werewolves were unduly shunted between departments, on classification semantics, from 'Beasts' to 'Beings' to 'Magical Creatures'. Hermione had reversed the discriminatory anti-werewolf legislation that Dolores Umbridge had championed in her glory days; that legislation had made it near impossible for werewolves to gain respectable employment.

_That horrid Umbridge stole futures away from so many. If she hadn't been so prejudiced, poor Professor Lupin and Vrede could have had decent lives! _

Dingane Vrede was a tall, skinny man of South African descent and an indeterminate age. A muggle, he had been thrown into the magical world after being bitten by a werewolf while he was backpacking across Europe. His lycanthropy and lack of magic had precluded him from assimilating into both, the muggle and wizarding worlds. A survivor, he had carved out a niche for himself in the nebulous, uncharted, ill regulated and mostly illicit alleys between the two. Hermione had learnt of him after becoming the head of DRMC, and been able to empathise with his situation better, for having known Remus Lupin. Allegations of misconduct against Vrede included the smuggling of goods between the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. Charges were dropped after Hermione found little proof of the items being any more pernicious than glowing protection trinkets for children, mild 'performance potions' for older men and the most noxious of all, paraben saturated cosmeceuticals for women. Strictly speaking, the act was illegal, but Hermione had learned many greys during the war. In the large scheme of things, an age-defying Co Q10 cream was not enough to ruin an already bereft life.

Hermione sighed and forced herself to focus on speed-reading the book _Slaying Vampires_ by Adam Fenwick. This final revision would be imperative for what was to come.

As soon as it was a decent time, Hermione prepared tea for Snape and carried it up with a croissant, knocking on his door. Snape opened it within a few seconds. His drawn features canvassed another pair of tired eyes that had not slept a wink the previous night.

"I hope you were comfortable?" Hermione enquired politely.

When Snape just stared at her with a raised brow, Hermione continued, "Draco was fine through the night. Professor, I wonder if it is too much to ask… could you please remain with Draco for the day? I need to check on things in the Ministry."

Snape displayed neither surprise nor reaction, as he accepted the tray from Hermione and followed her to the master bedroom.

Hermione Flooed to the Potter residence and found it empty. She Flooed to the Burrow and found Molly and Arthur having their morning cuppa quietly in the kitchen.

Molly stood up immediately. "Oh, Hermione! Good to see you, dear. What news of Harry?"

Hermione disregarded Mr Weasely's gestured invitation to take a seat. She had a suspicion she would be leaving soon.

"I was hoping for news of them."

"Ah," Arthur sighed, "we thought you came from St Mungo's. Harry came home injured last night. Nasty Auror business."

Molly picked up the conversation. "Ginny asked us to bring the children here while she stayed with him at the hospital. He should be able to return home today. Thank Merlin it was not worse!" Molly leaned tiredly against the table before gingerly taking a seat, her body reflecting, for once, her elderly age.

That the _Daily Prophet_ carried no mention of the Harry Potter being injured, indicated to Hermione that the details were being guarded and deemed classified. As Head of the Department of Relations to Magical Creatures, and as Hermione Granger, she ought be able to pry open some doors. Hermione Flooed to St Mungo's. There, she found Aurors posted outside Harry's room. Thomas Briverion had been a few years their junior at Hogwarts and they had remained friendly. Hermione commandeered Thomas away from the other Auror, out of earshot.

"How is he, Tom?"

Thomas looked exhausted. "Recovering. Sleeping. Ginny is in there with him. She would be happy to see you, I'm sure. We are not allowed to let visitors in, but if you can prove your identity to me, I could let _you_. I know you aren't anyone else with Polyjuice, but you understand we have to be careful, I'm sure."

Hermione's unwavering gaze pierced through Thomas, for long enough to make him fidget. "I tutored you in Potions. That enabled you to achieve the required grades for the Auror apprenticeship program."

Thomas smiled awkwardly. "Go on in, then."

To his evident surprise, Hermione refused. "I did not need to prove my identity to enter this room and you know it. If I wanted to, I could have just breezed in and you couldn't have barred me. You are trying to follow all security protocols. I appreciate the excellent vigilance, despite you being this tired. Were you hurt last night with the vampires?"

Thomas tilted his head and shrugged. "No, I wasn't hurt, I was on lookout duty at Ashram." Thomas appeared mildly bitter about being left out of the action.

Hermione patted his hand comfortingly. "Harry and Draco should take larger teams in."

Thomas groused in adamant agreement, "I _keep_ telling them that. They insisted they wanted to do this _on their own…_ that they didn't want to scare…" he gasped in shock. "Who told you?" Belatedly realising he had divulged too much, Thomas clamped his lips together, contrite.

Hermione scanned the corridor quickly. "You just did. We ought not discuss the details here. I'll go in and check on Harry."

"Hermione, you'll get me fired if anyone finds out. I'm sure!" Thomas whispered in shock.

"Then no one should find out, should they, Briverion? I'll see you at ten in my office. I believe with Harry and Draco relenting their constant arm-twisting of Shacklebolt, I will be ever more involved in the operation."

Hermione's claim came from certain knowledge. She had no doubt that Draco and Harry had compelled the Minister to exclude her. She was, after all, the most qualified person for the job and Shacklebolt trusted her unreservedly, as evident from the various responsibilities and positions that she had earned at a very young age. _Before_ Draco had caused pandemonium in her personal and professional lives.

_Mayhem… Absolute bedlam!_

Hermione quietly walked into the private room to find Ginny sleeping in a chair next to Harry's bed, their hands entwined. Harry's face and bandaged chest looked as battle-torn as Draco's. Hermione felt a rush of blood and rage reach her brain. Someone had DARED attack the men in her lives. They were going to pay.

Hermione softly closed the door behind her as she exited to find the healer-in-charge, who offered a reassuring prognosis of Harry's speedy recovery. She flooed to the Ministry, knowing Shacklebolt would be in his office. Draco was recuperating at her flat and she would like to be _there_ for him, but Snape was nothing, if not proficient. If at all Draco needed a woman's nurturing, Snape knew where to find Narcissa. Hermione had some stakes to sharpen.

As much as she abhorred violence of any kind, towards any creature, Hermione acknowledged that Vampires on a killing rampage deserved no compassion. They had abused all previous efforts at a peaceful solution. There was no other way.

Hermione marched purposefully into the Minister's office.

"Hermione! Thank Merlin you are here. I just sent you an owl, did you receive it already?"

Hermione sat down on the chair that Shacklebolt indicated.

"Minister, you know I have the utmost respect for you. Your decisions in the past few months, however, I consider less than exemplary. We have a hostile vampire pack in Britain, and you chose to keep _me, _the _head_ of the appropriate department, in the dark? Why would you do that? Don't you trust me to do my job? I have never felt more insulted!"

Shacklebolt looked embarrassed as he waved his door closed and set up privacy wards. "Hermione, it isn't how it looks. I trust you completely. Harry refused to let you get involved. As the Head of the Auror department, and well, as _Harry Potter_, his demands hold weight, you know? Besides, the sheer numbers were against you. Your department, with twenty odd members, does not have the manpower or combat training to prevail over the kind of infestation we suspect it has become. We would have needed forty or so Aurors anyway, but Harry categorically refused to be involved, unless you were kept out. I may be the Minister, but that man has some serious browbeating skills. If it helps, I'll be the first to admit that I went against my better judgement on this."

Hermione speculated on that. "You don't mention Draco in your excuses. You know, of course, where Draco is. The Auror on sentry duty outside my flat isn't exactly inconspicuous."

Shacklebolt nodded. "Yes, Rainsott reported unusual activity in your flat last night. We have also been monitoring the Floo at Hogwarts to ensure Hogwarts safety and knew you had tried to contact Snape."

"Then please tell me Minister, why is Draco not at the hospital right now? Why is he being treated by the Hogwarts Potions Master, at _my flat_?"

Shacklebolt was one of the most self-assured and polished personalities that Hermione knew, but currently his lips were pursed and an uncomfortable grimace marred his usually cheerful face. He shook his head in a disgruntled reply.

Hermione sensed a pattern. "Is it a secret you have to hide? Are you under oath?"

Shacklebolt lit up like a bulb and smiled, staring straight into Hermione's eyes.

"Draco's injuries can not be made public because then people will know he was with Harry?"

Shaklebolt whistled an indistinguishable tune, face straight, eyes trained on Hermione.

"So Draco was helping Harry on this mission."

Shaklebolt had paused his whistling for the duration of Hermione's question, but resumed again.

"This wasn't the only time though, that Draco has helped on Auror missions, was it?" Hermione thought back to all the peculiarities in Draco and Harry's behaviour over the past few months. Facts she had filed away, very neatly in her mind, labelled "Draco's Oddities."

Draco had been involved with the vampire sting in Australia. She tried to recall the details of that conversation. She had come away thinking he had left much unsaid.

Draco's tour to Europe had transpired, coincidentally, when there was news of a vampire rebellion there.

Draco had been reluctant to announce their relationship because of 'danger' from the people that he worked with. Harry had objected to their relationship, for no reason other than Draco's 'work' requiring him to fraternise with the unsavoury sort.

_Quidditch would not require Draco to socialise with vampires. Malfoy Inc? Maybe._

Draco was in perennial contact with Harry. Draco had been almost imprisoned in Italy. Instead of passing judgements, as he was prone to do, Harry had been concerned that Draco would be tired from busy days.

There were more, the oddities file was large indeed, but there were pages she could now reorganise into another, new file.

"Valentine's day… the vampire sting operation in Australia. That singer, J Lo, _she _was a front for Draco. Draco wasn't a front for her. She provided false alibi."

Shacklebolt looked impressed and stopped whistling.

"Draco conveniently manages to take his team to whichever part of the World that Aurors need investigated. When he landed in that jail in Italy, was he spying for the Ministry?"

The Minister blinked once.

Hermione gasped. "Draco has been spying for the Ministry all these years, and no one told me?"

The Minister rolled his eyes and shrugged helplessly.

"Is Draco an Auror?"

Kingsley Shasklebolt broke eye contact for the first time since Hermione had begun her inquisition. His gaze wavered towards one of his walls, the purple one that was decorated with many pictures and awards.

"So, Draco isn't an Auror."

Shacklebolt's head rotated back towards Hermione but he didn't meet her gaze; instead he inspected his short, clean, well-buffed nails.

"But he does help out with these missions on a frequent basis."

Shacklebolt moved his hands in a circle around each other, as if miming her to move on.

"The vampire attack last night, was in Britain?"

Direct eye contact resumed.

"Vicot Esway. He is a vampire, isn't he?"

Shacklebolts eyebrows rose in surprise.

"It was something Zara said. That Esway asked her to invite him in for tea, but when she didn't and went in to get Rosemary, he disappeared. He could have walked in as a former student, a security breach we have since corrected… but he had to wait for an invitation to enter Ashram, because he did not call it his domicile anymore. The other vampires in the offence, were any more of them former Ashram residents?"

The Minister was sombre.

"It was that rebel group that Draco almost had thrown out, wasn't it? Raza, Fargo, Vicot and Nethaniel."

The Minister blinked once then closed his eyes, then opened them again and blinked once.

"I am partly right?"

Unbroken eye contact.

Hermione rubbed her forehead in fatigue. She had not slept after Draco's appearance in her flat last night. There was so much to do, so much to organise, and yet a part of her simply wanted to return home to sit holding Draco's hand. She ruthlessly shook the cobwebs from her head.

"Do you have a plan to proceed, Minister? The Creature Containment section of my department has perfected these wood-stake pistols that can be used from a distance quite efficiently. Depending on the part of the anatomy targeted, the wood bullets will neutralize vampires, if not immediately slay them."

Shacklebolt jumped up from his chair in enthusiasm and walked around the desk to stand next to Hermione.

"Hermione, you are good! Excellent, even! Here's the situation so far…"

~o~

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PS: I do not support OR oppose 'leeching' in real life.

**For those of you who didn't see Draco's involvement with the Aurors, coming, YAY! For those of you that did, YAY! I want to know if my ploys worked.** **When you review, and please do, tell me if you were …**

**A) Excited that you saw this coming**

**B) Pleasantly surprised by some of the revelations**

**C) Disappointed at the predictability**

**D) Other**

Thank you!!!

Diagonally


	36. To Heal, be Whole

Disclaimer: The HP world was never mine, never can be. Not making any money. Am making dear acquaintances though, and am all the richer for it.

My sincere thanks to the **very talented** **Coleman for betaing this chapter** who made time for this fic despite a wedding and a hospitalisation in the family. She peppered my awkward musings with wonderful tips to improve flow, enhance expression and impart emotion. I was honoured to have her careful guidance, which made this chapter, a _**much**_ better one! I have made changes after the betaing, so mistakes all mine.

My everlasting gratitude goes out to **the readers and reviewers** of this fic. I am reassured that despite my long absences, the story interests enough to make you return. Work has made it so I get very little time for fanfic. The only way to hasten posting chapters would be to go sleepless once again, and sleepless/ beastly me is no good for the planet! Even now it's 3:33 am to post this online! Here are 15 pages of dedicated Dramione action to appease. Hope you like it.

**Recent reviewers** to make my world a much, much brighter place (in order of reviewing):**blueskyshymoon08,****Fantasy Trickster,****The nameless soul,****scarlettcat****(for her 12 reviews!) Tiff,****Irulan 24,****mw87,****Italian Rose,****jadeskullz,****spikeecat, Issa,****evenstar101,****Liz16,Slytherinchica08,****lyl wind,****tfobmv18,****HarryPGinnyW4eva,****Frozen Darkness,****caseyjarryn,Super-girl-straight-from-hell,****JazzyVengeance, ,****evangelicia, Lily,****SolarGuardianChick,nathy7,****mentarisenja,****Simkey,****Pixie-Fate,****.,****blueidpanda,****ebbe04,****Li0n3ss,****brandonlov, Wonderfalls,****chattychelsie, Jufuzle19,****xxDracoDragonxx, Cathryn,****xCailinNollaigx****andReshmi Solaris.**I regret that I couldn't send replies/ the promised list of hints to reviewers who weren't signed in or don't allow personal messaging on their profiles.

**IMPORTANT: I HAVE MADE SOME SUBTLE CHANGES TO THE LAST CHAPTER WHICH WILL BEAR CONSEQUENCES IN THE FUTURE CHAPTERS, SO PLEASE RE-READ IT IF YOU READ IT JUST AFTER IT WAS POSTED!**

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**To Heal, be Whole**

For eight years now, dissent had indeed been simmering amongst Death Eaters and their survivors- never completely squelched, only intimidated out of sight. The more enterprising and foolhardy of the lot had combined forces with truant vampires, asking to be sired.

Word had slithered through dark channels. Former Death Eaters and criminals had joined the vampire coven, and perpetuated attacks on Wizards and Muggles to strengthen their numbers. To evade scrutiny, they established base in a small Australian town, where the British perpetrators went unrecognised. The Death Eaters who had masterminded the vampire rebellion, managed to stay in the background and flee during the raid on Valentine's Day.

The international coalition that had banded together for that raid was once again joining forces to conduct simultaneous operations across continents. Minister Shaklebolt, with Hermione, conferred with the Ministries in Europe and Australia to coordinate their counter-offensive. Hermione's day was spent in tireless preparations and exhaustive planning.

Eva Granger, former Ashram role-model resident and Hogwarts Head Girl (now Ty's ecstatic fiancé) had graduated as class valedictorian and followed her career aspirations. She had been gladly accepted into the British Auror Training program, the B.A.T. She proved herself to be of vast assistance to Hermione as she took command of the 'BAT's, the young Auror apprentices who would be observing the operations.

In the afternoon, Hermione received word that both Harry and Draco were recovering well. Harry, being Harry, manipulated the healers into grudgingly approving an early discharge. He arrived late afternoon.

Surrounded by staff, Hermione neither saw fit to be overly demonstrative with her affection, nor administer the third degree inquisition she dearly wished to, regarding Draco's involvement. Instead, she smiled, letting her relief reflect in her tone, "Good to see you, Harry."

"Thanks. How are things at home?" he asked, expectantly.

Hermione pursed her lips, shrugging, "As expected. I'm trying to not let them impede my work. As you know, I do not appreciate personal issues interfering with professional conduct."

Harry grimaced at the veiled reprimand. He bowed his head to sign the papers that his personal assistant, Libby, handed him. Though still pale and gaunt, Harry went on to industriously spearhead the defence, severely objecting to the plan Hermione had already set in motion, finally relenting after she outlined the benefits that outweighed the risks.

When Hermione had a moment alone with him, she asked him how he was feeling.

"Better. Draco bore the brunt of it, I reckon, since he all but threw himself in front of me." Harry turned and walked away before Hermione could pursue the conversation further.

The evening concluded as a plan was finalised, scrutinized and re-scrutinised for flaws. By the time Hermione Flooed home, it was after 8:30 pm.

An anomalous vision greeted Hermione: Snape was watching television in her sitting room. With his part-Muggle parentage, it ought not have come as a surprise, but still, it did. On seeing her, Snape switched the television off.

"Miss Granger, I expect you have righted all, the Ministry?" he drawled in a bored monotone.

Hermione walked towards her coat closet, her movements observably slow. "We are getting there, Professor. How is Draco? How was your day?"

"Rested. Healed. I suspect he would be neither, had he not accidentally consumed the sleeping draught. Funny thing, vampire venom… it hampers eye-brain coordination." Snape stood up and dusted himself of imaginary lint.

Hermione snorted as she hung her bag in the closet. She was somewhat certain that Draco's version of events would differ. Draco's toxic, drained and fatigued body had needed the rest, however. By tomorrow morning, Draco would be hopefully well-healed, while Harry's stamina might remain injudiciously compromised.

Hermione smiled gratefully at the older man towering over her living space- composed, charismatic and completely aware of his significance.

"Thank you, Professor. As expected, Draco's care under your indomitable custody had proved to be superlative to St. Mungo's conciliatory handling of Harry. In time, Draco will undoubtedly appreciate just how much he owes you, again."

"And undoubtedly resent me for it," Snape scoffed.

Hermione shrugged. "Undoubtedly. Give him some time to accept how it was best for him to have stayed encumbered, at home."

Snape raised an eyebrow, at Hermione's slip of tongue. This was not Draco's home. The Manor was. Hastily, she changed the topic, "Have you both eaten dinner?"

The professor allowed a single nod before Hermione turned to smile and greet the house-elf diffidently entering the room. Hermione had requested Misty to care for the two men in her flat.

Snape must have Accioed his belongings from upstairs wordlessly, because his bag of potions and his cloak came flying down the stairs.

"Mister Malfoy should wake in half hour. One more dose of the Blood-Replenishing Potion, one can attempt to give him some colour. He should be coherent and fully recovered. Advise him that I recommend against strenuous activity till tomorrow." Shrewd eyes looked thoughtfully at Hermione before Snape continued deadpan. "You may well as well make it two vials of the Blood-Replenishing Potion. Mister Malfoy's predilection towards ignoring instructions ceased to astound me years ago."

Severus Snape turned around and Flooed back home, leaving a bemused Hermione to puzzle his words. She blushed, wobbled her head in abject embarrassment and turned to speak to a shamelessly grinning Misty.

"Miss have long night, long day, long night?" the elf covered her lips before bursting into squeaky giggles.

"Misty!" Hermione's mortification grew. The elf ought to know, at least, that Draco had been sleeping at the Manor for so long. Oh, he had been in Europe, so maybe Misty didn't know that things had gone… wayward.

"Uh, Misty, Draco and I… it isn't like that anymore." Hermione felt a sharp stab in her chest as she murmured near-heresy.

Misty tilted her head to a side, "Not that, what Miss? Master come to you. Not to Malfoy Manor to Ma'am, not to potion Master Snape, he not call Misty. He come to you. Master go away, master come back. Master like that. He _comes_ to _you_," she emphasised.

Hermione felt a constriction in her throat that she didn't care explain. She cleared it and started walking towards the stairs, "I'll go check on him."

Misty approached the bottom of the staircase as Hermione ascended, "Miss, dinner in kitchen. Misty go home? Miss call if Miss want Misty?"

Hermione paused, "Oh, yes of course, I'm so sorry Misty. Please do go home. Thank you for being here all day. We should be fine, I don't think I'll disturb you tonight."

Misty's large eyeballs rolled upwards in her large eyes, then, a pop and the elf was gone.

Hermione worried outside her bedroom door, before entering as quietly as she could. Draco was asleep. It was odd to see him so quiet and still. Hermione took a quick shower and brought up the heated dinner, to eat sitting by her bed. It felt like forbidden pleasure, watching Draco sleep in her bed again. His much-missed face, so gaunt the night before, looked much healthier tonight. He was frowning in his sleep though; something always seemed to bother his restless mind. His shortened hair did not fall on his face anymore, so to sway them away from his eyes, that excuse to touch was robbed. She took consolation that Draco seemed better rested and nourished than Harry had this afternoon. The burns on Draco's body, caused by the Solario serum, were the only physical evidence left of yesterday's violence.

Clearing up after dinner, Hermione washed her hands and gently applied the skin-soothing salve onto the visible patches of his blistering skin.

Slowly, Draco began to stir. Hermione's back straightened as she moved away from the bed to sit on the chaise a few feet away. She opened a book.

Those familiar, beloved, pale grey eyes were revealed from under pale lids. Draco seemed normal, just as endearingly unguarded as he appeared when he awoke from sleep. He smiled at her, a sincere, small smile- one that revealed a simple pleasure in finding her company. Hermione couldn't bring herself to return the greeting. Draco's smile vanished.

The screaming silence lasted a while. Hermione pretended to read the book in her hands. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flicker of his pale wrist, and his sheets floated up and away from him in a cresting wave. He wasn't clothed, and Hermione tried to hide her blush by swinging forward her hair. Draco walked around her room with easy familiarity. He opened the drawers that had previously held his briefs and towel, and found them still there. He opened the drawer where he had kept his nightclothes more than a month ago, and unfolded the neatly ironed pyjamas. He turned to lay the clothes on the bed and stared at her, but she was too uncomfortable to return his intense gaze. In that simple clothes-finding act, Draco had known exactly where he stood with Hermione, and put Hermione at an awkward disadvantage.

Hermione ignored him some more on principle. He returned from the bathroom freshly showered, making her room smell like spring in the Himalayas- rich, fresh, intoxicatingly inviting. His towel sat low on his hips. Little beads of water bejewelled his skin and glistened in prismatic wonder. It was like being a teenager at Grimmauld place all over again. Hermione held her breath. She was older, wiser. She would not lust after him. It simply wasn't done.

Only when Draco convulsed in a fit of dry cough, did Hermione leave her chair to hand him a glass of water. nodded before drinking slow, measured sips. Up close, she could see his pink nipples were hardened. He must be cold. One slow drop of water made a tortuous path from his nape down to his defined collar bone, down, down, teasing the silken matt off his sparsely haired chest, down, down, hypnotically circumventing his nipple, continuing its steady journey on the muscled contours, _sigh_, taking reprieve in his belly button like dew, yielding to gravity, finding the centre of his body to get lost in that hint of blond just above the towel.

"Granger?" Draco's raspy drawl shook Hermione out of her languor and she swiftly turned around to step away.

"So, what have you dug up?" Draco asked, no, demanded.

"None of your business, Draco." Hermione sat down on the bed, knees up, arms curled around in a hug.

Draco threw towards her a casual, raised, single eyebrow as he tossed away his towel to dress. "Don't be like that, love. Tell me what you have unearthed. That mind of yours must have been duteously bustling since last night."

_Love? Love! Where does he get off calling me love?_She thought. _This casual British endearment ought be barred! How is one to determone whether it is casual or… meant?_

Still, it melted something in her; more importantly, it did not melt everything in her. Hermione clung to last remains of her resolve at maintaining an impassive facade. "You've been helping the Aurors all along. Quidditch is a front for your spying activities. Vicot Esway is a vampire, as I suspect, are some of the friends he socialised with during his school years. You are a liar."

Draco sat down on the bed beside her. "I was under oath," he paused and looked pained as he corrected himself, "I am under oath. I still can't deny or confirm any thing." Draco's gaze held hers unflinchingly.

"Harry can know, Shacklebolt can know, even Thomas? I can't?" Hermione tried very hard to keep the petulance out of her tone.

"They are amongst the only ones that know. You were quick to narrow that down."

"What do you do for the Aurors?"

Silence.

Hermione persisted, "Could you have been killed yesterday? Harry?"

Silence.

Hermione bristled, "I am not pregnant any more. I do not need protecting!"

Draco's eyes melted into pools of quicksilver, his hand reached for her, but retreated as she flinched.

"Oh no, you don't, Draco Malfoy! You and Harry have been manipulative, interfering, chauvinistic… screwts! How dare you keep me away from my work, _again_? After that conversation we had just a little while ago?" Hermione was flushed with anger.

"Granger, calm down," his tenor was smooth, soothing, "Harry wanted you to get some peace and quiet, since, well, it has not been very peaceful for you recently, has it? I warned him you would eat him for dinner, but he was determined to keep you away."

"That man is coming dangerously close to being cursed."

"May I suggest Obliviation? A Memory modification charm at the very least? Hopefully he will forget I ever existed and leave me the fuck alone."

Hermione's head whipped up in surprise. Draco's vocabulary had never been short of colourful; still, by and large, he avoided abusive language in front of her.

"So you've been helping him reluctantly?"

"What do you think, Granger? I am no saint. If he wants to force on me, acts I have no desire to commit… or say, he wants to put in peril, lives that I prefer continued, including my own, I am not going to consent easily."

"Hmm…" Hermione quietly added a whole section to the file marked _Draco's Oddities_.

"Yes, please do psycho analyse that to Merlin's demise. You don't nearly have enough on your plate right now," Draco sneered derisively.

Hermione plied on him, her very own, much feared, _if-looks-could-Avada-stare_, "Sarcasm will get you out of my flat, Draco. You can recuperate at the Manor just as well, if not better. Why _don't _you go home?"

Chagrin and remorse were alien looks on Draco. "Do you want me to return to the Manor? Aren't you even mildly glad to see me?"

"Not like this. You are no use to me dead."

"Would you have been devastated, had I died?" the man had the temerity to look amused.

"I would have been sufficiently perturbed." Hermione got up, but he caught her hand.

"I've missed you," he said in a tone devoid of all emotion.

Hermione looked down at him, biting her lip, eyes half closed, her lashes fluttering uncertainly on her cheeks. "Are you sleepy?"

Draco pulled her closer, tugging at her hand till she sat near him.

"No, I'm not." His free hand reached for her face and his expert thumb gently caressed her lips.

Hermione's demure smile turned into a victorious one. "Good, then we can discuss your involvement with the Aurors."

Draco groaned as he fell back on the bed, "I find myself extraordinarily exhausted. Time to retire. Snape's instructions."

Hermione's reputation for perseverance had not been earned by waiting for galleons to rain. She made sure she earned them. Worst case, she broke into Goblin-protected vaults and she extracted the bloody coins. She didn't just sit and wait.

"Why do you know the things you know? How are you involved with the Aurors? Are you one? Who were the vampires that did this to you and Harry? Five of them on two of you, this seems personal. Was it Esway?"

Draco raised himself to recline on his elbows. "This could get him Avadaed or slain, so I need you to guard this information… Vicot was trying to warn us when he came to the Sanctuary. He later wrote to me. His friends have been very naughty indeed."

"That is just one question answered, out of five."

"That is all I can give."

"Are you an Auror?"

"Think about this Granger, how can I be an Auror?"

"Draco, no prevarication. Are you an auror?

"No, I am not," Draco seemed discomfited, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't.

"You have been helping them." This was more a statement than a query.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly before smirking. "Why not?"

"Draco!"

Draco sat up in irritation, "What do you expect me to do when Potter approaches me with unethical emotional blackmails and dripping algae eyes. Helping the blessed Golden Trio for a year to defeat the Deranged Lord was not good enough for him. Of course not! Redemption is not easily earned," Draco scowled. "That man needs to extract his pound of flesh. If you ever thought Dumbledore was a manipulative old coot, wait for Potter to grow into himself. Dumbledore will seem like a blithe butterfly in comparison!"

"So you're in this only by Harry's insistence?"

"He is not holding a wand to my throat, if that is your question. Though, scheming and manipulation were involved to get me to consent. He is more Slytherin than you give him credit for."

"And you couldn't tell me because…?"

"How many times do I tell you? I am not allowed the extravagance, someone could have died," Draco's capricious patience seemed all but evaporated. "Now, I believe it is your turn. Tell me, Granger, what were you up to today?"

"You'll find out soon enough, I presume. I'm not allowed the extravagance. Someone could die." Hermione tossed her hair back, her body rigid in defiance.

Draco shook his head in disapproval. "Mi, I know you, but I have to try… can you please absent yourself from this chaos? Not only do these vamps harbour Death-Eater antipathies against Muggle-borns, they also relish the idea of making an example of the Head of the DRMC. They are not your expected Death Eaters or randomly strayed vampires. They are a diabolical, weaponised combination of the two. If I ask nicely, will you promise to stay away? Please? I need you to stay safe for me."

"Draco, you know I can't," Hermione's shoulders' lost some of their stature, her tone some of its hostility. She evaded the plea in his coercive gaze by training her vision to her hands. This turned out to be a mistake. Her hands were somehow in his hands, his thumb was gently rubbing slow, sensual circles on the inside of her wrists. She had missed his thumbs.

"If I forbid you to stay away?"

The possessiveness in Draco's question lifted her focus from the mesmerising dance of his hands.

"You don't have the right." Hermione regretted that it came out almost a query.

"If I made it my right?"

Hermione raised her head to find deep, mesmerising, twilight eyes, asking questions she didn't dare explore. She turned away, unable to argue with the intensity that weakened her knees and quickened her pulse.

Draco brought his finger under her chin and nudged her face up gently.

"Mi?"

"I… I can't," she stammered. Hermione stood and made to leave again, only to realise that Draco's hands were still tightly clasped around hers.

"We are sleeping here." Draco's voice was as smooth as the surface of a calm lake, as full of velvet promises, as captivatingly beautiful.

Hermione wasn't sure staying was the best path to preserve her mental health. Before they had embarked on this crazy relationship-of-convenience-and-more, his frequent absences were hard enough to acclimatise to; now, his leaving felt like abandonment. It was more than she could comfortably endure. She did not want to go through that again, ever.

"Till when are you staying?" She twisted her hand to gain its overrated release and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"I'm back," steady and calm, Draco's eyes pierced her soul.

"For how long?" Hermione persevered. She needed to understand his intentions. It would do her no good to lower her defences just to have him leave again, at the first sign of trouble.

"For as long as you'll have me," his expression implored her to yield as he extricated her hand away from her body, gently, accidentally, brushing the breast beside it.

Hermione nodded stiffly as he pulled her down to sit on the bed, yet again.

"I know I was gone long. I just didn't… I needed to get away, to sort… things. I did not mean for you to think I had left," Draco caressed her hair soothingly, speaking softly, as if to an injured child.

Hermione shrugged, affecting the indifference she longed for. She was afraid to speak lest she inadvertently reveal just how badly she'd felt damaged, at the easy dismissal from his life.

"How have you been?" Draco scooted closer, tucking a straying curl behind her hair.

"Spiffing," Hermione replied. They both broke into awkward smiles, then one of Draco's hands clasped her waist tenderly, his thumb brushing the underside of her right breast. His other hand went to caress the curve of her neck, the rising blush of her check.

"I admitted that I missed you, a colossal admission as any. I have not heard you say it yet," Draco's hand banded around her delicate throat. His thumb flicked to force her chin up.

"I noticed your absence," she volunteered, feeling increasingly warm, mildly fevered.

"That is promising," Draco's trademark smirk was back. "That was an evil thing you did, sending me that one potato wedge. After I sent you such a cordial note too!"

Hermione gasped, "Is that what it was? Only, it seemed devoid of any message, any… thing." She tried to pull away but his hand on her throat stayed her. His other hand reached around her back to jerk her closer, so close, that she could see the play of silver- gold flecks in his eyes, as he shook his head in mock disappointment.

"The message was implied. I assumed you were subtle enough to understand me."

His overpowering touch in the middle of her back continued to pull her closer still, till their lips were just a few breaths apart. If she leaned in…

"Do you?" he asked, tilting his head, studying every inch of her face, each change in her micro-expressions submitted to his interpretation.

"What?" She looked up from his tender pink lips to his eyes. She'd missed these eyes so much. The electricity of the stormy grey, the magnetism of the silver, the depth of the blue and the hope of the gold… the enchantment that she had just begun to decipher. His eyes were diamond and charcoal now, his pupils dilated. Hermione knew those eyes. Her heart rate increased perceptibly, she felt the rush of it.

"Do you understand me? Do you know me?" he demanded her truth.

"I wish I understood you, Draco, more than anything, I wish for that. Sometimes, I wish I could get inside your head and see what goes on in there. I wish I could be the one to know you best." Hermione looked away, shamed, wary.

"You are." Draco held her bewildered gaze as he broached the minute distance, ever so slowly. He placed his lips on hers, tasting… sampling. Hermione's sigh was deep, her relief overwhelming. His lips gently captured her lower lip in a nibble and he sucked at it, pulling at her inhibitions. She realised she was trembling, when Draco's hand left her throat to go around her shoulder, into her hair, bolstering her neck.

"Mi. I am here. Let me in?"

Her hands left the sheet they had been clutching. One hand slid up the slick contours of his chest, the other found the soft silk of his hair. He was so warm, so real. She had missed _this_. She had missed everything about him.

Draco's hand left her back to skim her waist. After a gradual, sensual ascent, Draco's sensitive, long fingers reached her breast and her back arched involuntarily. Hermione closed her eyes as the cascading pleasure pooled in her core.

"Mine."

Hermione's eyes flew open in surprise as Draco laid his claim. She met his dark magic gaze, her emotions plainly revealed. He drew her onto the bed, to lie above him, their bodies flushed. His fingers went to her lips.

"Mine."

The slightest movement of mouth and the graceful flick of wrist gave a split-second warning of his intent, as both their clothes vanished. He put his arms around her waist and rolled. In one fluid motion, he was on top.

He placed a hand over her heart.

"Mine?" He looked endearingly uncertain.

Hermione reached for his unshaven cheek. The rough golden stubble was a sharp contrast to the soft hair on his chest. His eyes probed her for the truth she couldn't contain anymore.

"Yours." She meant it with everything she had.

Draco's face brightened, gold lit the diamond and as a self-satisfied smile crossed his lips.

His hands continued their journey down her body, escaping into her curls, a poor shield for her moist femininity.

"Mine. Only mine," Draco commanded.

Hermione's heart was lost, her mind a mesh.

"Only yours," she conceded, breathlessly. She raised her hand to his heart, to ask the most important question of her life, but he forestalled her by smiling and pressing his hand on hers.

"Hermione."

"Yes, Draco?"

"Just. Hermione."

He never called her Hermione. It was always Granger or Mi. So her name, when he said it this way, sent a spark down her spine. It was in wonder, recognition, an acceptance, a claim, more.

She had ached for him for so long… to have him like this, warm and naked, hard and gentle; this was pure ecstasy, pure torture.

"Please?" She wasn't sure what she was soliciting, but Draco read her body well. He lifted one of her knees to imprison himself in the embrace of her leg. He fit perfectly into the cushion of her mounds and her valleys.

Hermione only became conscious of her undulating hips when Draco gentled her swaying with a palm against the arch of her pelvis. Her body, despite her mind's wiser counsel, was shamelessly begging him to close that last distance, to take her, to sate her, but Draco denied her again, "Mi, baby, please, not yet. It has been so long. We need to do this right. I have dreamed… so many ways."

Hermione pushed against him and pulled him in. She could not wait. She wanted this to last forever.

"Mi." Draco's fingers found her honeyed entrance and her sensitised nub, and rendered her thoughtless till the perspiration breaking on her body warned her of the inevitable. This was everything. This was not enough.

Pushing his hand aside, Hermione clasped and guided him into her as he groaned, part in protest, above all in pleasure, as his lids fell upon his cindering eyes.

This was what the romance books wrote about. This was why sex had such a powerful hold over millions of minds. Making love to Draco like this, this crazed force, this was what people hoped to experience, even if just once in their lifetime. This ferocious need, this insanity, this magic.

Draco was frustratingly gentle, mind-numbingly sensual and endearingly demanding. Still, he was achingly stubborn in his refusal to let things gain momentum. When she thought they were almost there, grasping at an unknown force, he stopped and held her body down in an iron-hold. When she tried to hasten their cadence by pushing harder, faster, grasping his hips, his legs, he fastened her hands against the bed in a binding spell he had used before.

"Draco, no!"

"Hermione, I need… please?"

He showed her what he needed from her, as she writhed and bucked in a mindless haze.

Kisses.

sigh

Velvet tongues on velvet skin.

_moan_

Nimble fingers adept at magic.

_whimper_

Belonging, becoming.

Just as her eyes went blank, just as she opened her mouth in a voiceless scream, just as her walls pulsed around him, just as she felt as if she was imploding upon herself, in the most intense experience of her life, that's when he gave her what she needed most. He gave of himself. He moaned her name in helpless surrender.

Draco had always been so quiet when he reached his pinnacles that this display of emotion moved Hermione, it hummed through all of her, touched her very core. She ceded to the joy that razed all towers; she gave in to the moment as glorious spasms rode their bodies.

That profound, elusive moment of zero thought.

In that moment, she felt herself gently soar above the bed. It took her a disconcerting moment to realise her soul had projected away. The gold of his soul started to leave his body too, as they both levitated, light as feathers caught in a warm breeze, their waves of wispy energies lapping into the other's till she couldn't discern any boundaries. The mists of their energies merged.

Leisurely, their astral selves glided back into their seemingly sleeping selves.

When she felt herself adjust to the change, Hermione opened her eyes to catch Draco's surprised grey, wide open in bemusement.

"Has that ever happened to you before?" he asked softly.

"No. You?"

"No," he looked stunned.

Overwhelmed with all that had happened before, all that happened now, Hermione felt herself tear up. As much as she tried to reign them in, the hot liquid brimmed and fell.

Aghast, Draco gaped for a moment, frozen. Then, he hurriedly freed her arms from the binding spell.

"What? Mi, what is wrong?" Draco gathered her close.

Hermione couldn't stop herself, she sobbed. She cried out of joy and she cried out of sorrow, she cried for the love that seemed to touch their souls and most of all, she cried for her lost child. She sobbed quietly till his soothing hands on her back finally stilled her.

"It's just the first time we… since Blueberry."

Draco's face fell, "I know. I… I miss Blueberry too."

Draco enveloped Hermione in his warm, solid, reassuring embrace, pulling up the sheets around them. "I'm sorry I left, Mi. I didn't know how to deal with... I… I assumed it was my fault and I was angry… too unhealthy to be around anyone."

Hermione sat up, focussing outwards, "Your fault? How could it have been your fault Draco?"

Draco looked away, he seemed far away. "It felt like my past had finally caught up with me. I couldn't sleep, thinking some demented pureblood fanatic may have cursed our baby. It could have even been someone from the inbred Malfoy clan. I told you at Ron's wedding, it isn't a very stable lot. And it happened immediately after my birthday. It was too big a coincidence to ignore."

Hermione felt a coldness settle in her chest before she chased it away. "It wasn't anyone Draco. I asked the Healer, there were no signs of dark magic."

Draco nodded, "No, none that we could find. Your healer also said she found no traces of potions when she checked you later. She said it seemed to have been…"

"Natural?" Hermione reached for his hand. She understood the weight of the blame Draco must have shouldered. She had been fighting her demons, not knowing similar monsters had been plaguing him.

"Her exact words were _a natural tragedy_." Draco's eyes were ashen in their misery, his voice intoned with pain. If only he had opened up to her. The shared burdened had to have been lighter. They could both have begun to heal. Though she couldn't hold him culpable for remoteness; she too had kept her depression a secret from him, masking her melancholy under the composure of calm acceptance. She too had submerged herself in work, sometimes grateful to be away from the painful reminder of Draco's presence. He had done the same. He just healed differently; he needed to remove himself from the smothering situation to gain his equilibrium.

She had thought Draco didn't feel the pain of loss as acutely. She had been wrong.

Hermione soothed the frown on his forehead, "It's all right, love, I understand."

Now, she did.

Managing all the demands that weighed Draco's mind, body and soul - spying for the Aurors, investigating his relatives' involvement in the miscarriage, Quidditch, Malfoy industries, losing their baby, a miserable Hermione. A lesser man would have broken. Hermione had analysed Draco's psyche enough to garner how the high emotions at the time would have further taxed his already spread-thin energies. Draco had withdrawn because it was the only way he knew how to manage his own grief, after having supported her through hers. He had needed to recuperate, heal his whole self, by himself. Now that he had, he was back. She could accept that.

Draco threaded his long fingers through hers and brought her hand to his soft lips.

"What have I done to deserve you, Mi?"

"You don't deserve me. I'm slumming."

He nudged her ribs with his elbow, she chuckled at his offended expression.

Hermione started to get out of bed but Draco held her back.

"Where are you going?"

"You need to have Blood Replenishing potion, Snape's instructions… two vials." Hermione speculatively eyed the blond hunk in her bed, and felt her mouth curl into a smile. "One more in the morning, perhaps."

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Your reviews mean the world and help this story improve! So keep on then, please don't stop, ever? If you are reading, and don't usually review, what are you waiting for? Go on, hit that gorgeous green button. Yes, I mean you, dear. It's how you recompense me to entertain/ bore/ bug you. Exchanging energies… makes the world work.


	37. Reality or Something Like It

**Hope everyone had fabulous holidays! Wishing everyone a wonderful new year with health, peace and success in plentiful bounty.**

My sincere and utter gratitude to the phenomenal, hilarious and utterly talented **Scarlettcat** for betaing the following two chapters. Her fanfic **_Babysitting Blues_** is a unique take on the Dramione ship. Her Hermione is sassy, funny, flirty and not afraid to do whatever it takes to get the job done. Is it her Hermione's fault that all those men want her? Merlin no! Are all those men sinfully tempting? Damn straight! Infinitely comical, brazenly out of the box. Definitely NC-17. Not for the conservative reader. All of which, of course, made her perfect for my appallingly boring rants. To this attempt at reigned-in idiocy, she added colour, humour and spark. She edited 28 pages of absurdity, all during the holidays! I am infinitely grateful for all her work and time… and the trust she placed by exchanging emails with a complete stranger. I promise not to spam or stalk you S :) (I have worked on this after the betaing, so mistakes all mine.)

This chapter and the next are **experiments**. I have tipped my toes into the waters of 'THEATRE OF THE ABSURD'. Therefore, not everything will fall into neat little squares. Lamentably, I am too OCD to leave things _too _out there so it isn't completely DADA either. Please let me know what you make of it.

More ANs below chapter

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**Reality, or Something Absurdly Like It**

The Ministry official leaned back against his metal and plastic chair. The hasty movement stirred a thin patch of hair gelled to cover his shiny bald scalp. He smoothed the crisp film of hair carefully back into place and looked at his subject from the top of his reading glasses.

"Ms. Granger, as you are undoubtedly aware, every word that you and I speak will be noted down by this Diktat Quill. My report will be incorporated into the Ministry records. I recommend some of that brew," he pointed to a steaming cup that lay on the table between them, "it will help recall and prevent unintended perjury. So, what would you like to tell me about the incident?" An insipid smile was his encouragement for her to proceed.

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest, then unfolded them to lay them palm up on the arms of the uncomfortable chair she occupied. "Nathaniel wished to inform his aunt that he didn't steal her pigs."

The Ministry official's thick eyebrows reached up to his thin strip of hair. "Is that all you would like to tell me?"

Hermione trumped up a weak smile of her own. "The other team members you debriefed, would have, undoubtedly, already offered relevant details. This meeting is a formal necessity, but I am certain you are weary of hearing the same details parroted repetitively."

"I appreciate your empathy Ms. Granger. Alas, someone has to do the job. Please, do have some tea," insisted the official, sliding the chipped white cup filled with the murky substance closer to her. "Perhaps you will feel more at ease."

The various warnings of Mad Eye Moody flitted across Hermione's mind as she sceptically regarded the suspect concoction, the less than delicate china, the long wooden table and the nameless man before her. Betwixt all that, she also managed to wonder if the cup had been washed thoroughly enough between the last debriefing and hers.

While Hermione had never met this middle-aged man before, she could read him like a book: Stuck in a job that didn't inspire him anymore, frustrated that he had peaked his career, yet worthy of her respect, because he stuck unerringly to the ethics that he valued. She somehow had to make sure he didn't read her as easily. Resignation lined her grimacing eyes as she reached forward and let her lips skim the teacup. The change on her face was subtle, but the Ministry official knew the signs to look out for. It was time to begin.

"Right then, Ms. Granger, start at the very beginning, leave no details out."

"Well, I received my letter for Hogwarts on my eleventh birthday. It was a hot day. I was wearing a blue cotton sundress and I had two pigtails in my hair to keep the hair out of my eyes while I played hopscotch. One pigtail was higher than the other and Damion teased me mercilessly about it. But I should probably go forth in the story, yes?"

"Yes please." The official nodded in approval, assured that his brew had done it's job.

"On my first trip to Diagon Alley, I purchased my first-year books, uniform and trunk. The first wizarding book I ever read was my first copy of Hogwarts a History, sixth edition, dark red leather binding, gold leaf pages..."

"We can skip forward a little more," the official interrupted, his shiny forehead marred with thick lines of dissatisfaction, "Give me details from the morning of the incident."

"As you wish," responded Hermione blandly. "Draco woke up before I did that morning. We both sleep fitfully when under stress, but he more so than I. He has not been sleeping well at all since he showed up a fortnight ago. He gets up in the middle of the night, gasping, _no leeches_, _no leeches_!"

"Err… the morning, please, Ms Granger." the official murmured uncomfortably.

Hermione swayed her head side to side, a small dreamy smile spreading into her dazed gaze, "He… aroused me from my slumber by sprinkling soft kisses along my collarbone. His sweet warm lips trailed their way down my stomach and onward leaving me writhing in bed, half-asleep, half-awake. His hands roamed endlessly over my body… The sex these past two weeks has been blissful. When he isn't fucking my brains out, he's making glorious love to me. He's been… there, you know? I rather wish he'd make it official and tell me he loves me… but only if he really does. But I think he does, you see. My parents always said to pay attentions to deeds, not words, and the deeds all seem there. He even did this whole _mine_ thing when we were… in a vulnerable moment and… and hoodwinked me into admitting that my bleeding heart was his." Hermione's sullen expression altered as an idea brightened her face, "Will you be talking to Draco today? Uhm… are you quite all right?"

By this time, The Ministry official had closed his eyes, looked queerly perplexed and appeared to be shaking slightly in a pre-apoplectic fit. He had turned a peculiar colour between scarlet and purple and a vein throbbed in his forehead. Hermione heard him mumble something, but could only make out the words, "dosage" and "not paid enough."

He opened his eyes and collected himself before speaking, coherently this time, "Yes, I mean no. I think perhaps it would be best if we commenced your report from when you reached the Ministry." In a nervous gesture, he reached up and slicked back his stringy patch of hair, leaving it considerably slimmer than before.

"Very well." Hermione smiled benignly and stared into the space behind him with a glazed expression on her face. He had not asked her a question, so she wasn't compelled to answer.

"Yes, then, what happened after you reached the Ministry?" he caught on.

Hermione's cloudy eyes took on the glow of direction. "Draco wasn't there. He said he couldn't walk into an official Auror meeting, so he walked me to Shacklebolt's office and made me give my word that that I would restrict my actions to only my assignment for the day, and I would not endanger myself any further."

The Ministry official sighed in relief, and encouraged her to continue.

"I walked into the Minister's office, Harry was there. The meeting wasn't supposed to start for another few minutes. Aurors and members from my department, you know, the DRMC, were assembling. Thomas walked in and as soon as he saw me, went red, bowed his head down and walked to the corner of the room, farthest away from me." Hermione fell quiet after that, shoulders tensed, staring aimlessly into space.

The Ministry official looked into his previous notes, "Mr. Briverion confessed that he accidentally admitted to you that Mr. Malfoy had accompanied Mr. Potter on an assignment. The Minister authorised it with the belief that Esway would be more cooperative with another Slytherin. Please, continue."

Hermione's shoulders slumped down in relief, "The Minister was looking at the watch in annoyance and then he walked in."

"Who walked in, Ms. Granger?"

The official saw Hermione's eyes move around, ostensibly lost in thought.

"Ms Granger?"

Hermione levelled her gaze at the Ministry official, "They told me his name was François."

The middle-aged man went through some of the notes on his desk, flipping some pages up and down before his finger went down a list on a page. "I don't believe I am acquainted with him. Someone else must be debriefing him."

Hermione shrugged, as her glazed eyes went to the wall again. "I saw François for the first time, earlier this month. Reba, the Auror, told me he is a Hit Wizard, an undercover assassin for the Ministry. She told me he moved to London a few years ago. He specializes in infiltrating underground Dark Arts groups and… eliminating… rogue, deadly, criminals who evade… lesser consequences. He… wore long black hair… curly, but not frizzy, reaching just below his shoulders. He looked quite… that is… he had beautiful olive skin and jet black eyes that could pull you into their abyss. Though it wasn't just his appearance. Something about his personality… it captivates you. Sucks you right in. Err… yes. We have never spoken, because, well, he does not speak, does he? Though he smiles plenty. My parents would love his teeth; they could be fluorescent, except, I think I caught the flash of a silver molar. My parents could fix that. Ironically, or logically, I'm told he is the best they have at casting non-verbal spells. If you were to go by looks alone, he could pass for a peace-loving, institution-hating, tree-hugging, vegetarian hippy. The type who teaches Pilates or Yoga, because his muscles have excellent tone, especially his tight..." Hermione shook her head. "Maybe that's what makes him a good Hit-Wizard? Onlookers wouldn't expect an assassin behind that charming façade."

Hermione's posture stiffened and the flaring of her nostrils revealed disapproval before she straightened her back and continued, "I have to confess, I am ambivalent about his choice of profession. I have still not processed how I feel about Hit Wizards. And I am not sure I approve of such mysterious types, anyway. The things they can hide behind their smiles!" Hermione shuddered. "I'm so used to outspoken men who are brashly vocal about their opinions." Her tone softened, her eyes still unfocussed, "Have you heard of the story behind his speechlessness? It is a tragic tale indeed."

The Ministry official resignedly shook his head, curiosity evident in his beady eyes, so Hermione continued with a melancholy tilt to her voice, "According to Reba, well, according to rumour, he was held hostage by demon-worshippers who tortured him and cut his tongue out." Hermione winced. "He manages to be… graceful… and eloquent despite… it all. Maybe that's why people find him… appealing."

The Ministry official pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ms Granger, shall we proceed to the meeting?"

"Oh, yes, the meeting. Well, nothing much happened. Except, right before we were supposed to Apparate out… uh… Harry gave me a ring, with instructions. At 9:02 am, several of us apparated out to different locations. I apparated to the location where the vampires had last been seen… a small division of woods off Maltese Park. I cleared fallen leaves and turned the exact location upside down. I'd been there the day before, too, with Reba sectioning off the area and searching for clues. I had mentioned out loud that I would be back today for another thorough search. Someone must have heard. I had barely spent five minutes turning over rocks and leaves when I felt an unnatural breeze stirring behind me. Six, no, seven vampires had appeared in an instant. One of them, I don't know his name, but he had a crescent moon tattoo on his face… well, he grabbed me, and they Apparated me into their lair."

Hermione was fanning herself, the stress of the recalled moment giving her hot flashes. Or maybe it was just another after effect of the miscarriage? Her hormones had not been the same since. The month-long PMS was disorienting. Nausea at food smells (that had irritated her during her pregnancy), sore breasts, a stomach that felt like an overfilled waterbed. She had all the overwhelming symptoms of pregnancy, without the benefits of one.

The Ministry official was leaning forward on his table. Hermione noticed that he didn't seem to have too much of a neck and his head simply rolled around on his shoulder in a bobble-head fashion.

"Then what happened?" he enquired urgently.

"I am not really sure." Hermione shrugged.

"What do you mean, you are not really sure?" the official demanded.

Hermione had a faraway look in her eyes, which changed to an expression of intense concentration for a fleeting moment before she shook her head in what appeared to be the rejection of a notion.

"I could give you a dialogue by dialogue account, but I would not be able to do it justice. Could you, perchance, arrange for a Pensieve? My memories, without the filter of my interpretation, are likely to provide a more accurate witness."

The Ministry official bobbed his head in what could have been a nod or a shake and screechingly dragged his metallic chair backwards. Hermione grimaced. The portly official ambled to the door and opened it to whisper to the guard stationed outside. He closed the door behind him as he exited the room, leaving Hermione to her devices till he returned with a Pensieve, roughly fifteen minutes later. On his return, he set the large stone bowl on the long wooden table and sat down, causing his chair to rather annoyingly, screech again. He motioned for Hermione to pull her chair forth. She picked her chair as she got up and placed it closer to the table, quietly.

Hermione aimed her wand gracefully at her temple and swirled out distinct silver wisps that she gently sprinkled into the basin.

"I would very much like to revisit these memories with you." Hermione requested in a tone that made it clear it wasn't really a request.

"Of course, Ms. Granger. On the count of three, then. One… two… three!"

Hermione and the official found themselves being pulled into the depths of her memories, landing in one of the many corridors of the Ministry.

Draco was walking with Hermione.

"Granger, I do not condone your participation in this operation. I understand it, but I do not approve of it."

Hermione placed a mollifying hand on his arm. "I am doing my job Draco. That is also a part of who I am. You can not have one without the other."

Draco went still and turned around, to corner Hermione against the wall. She stiffened in defence.

Draco's hand came to caress her throat, and any one who watched the scene could be misled into thinking that it was a tender gesture. Hermione knew better. It was territorial; meant to be intimidating.

"If you limited yourself to the requirements of your job, of any _one _job, we wouldn't need to have this conversation," Draco whispered stonily in her ear. His thumb flicked across the vulnerable cleft at the top of her sternum. "Putting your neck out further than it needs to go, _that_ I object to."

"So, simply stated, what's good for the goose isn't good for the gander?" Hermione's voice had come out a tad too husky for her liking.

"Stop being difficult, witch." Draco's hand went down to grasp her shoulder. He looked like he wanted to shake her, but he was too much in control of himself to allow an infraction like that. "Just, give me your unswerving word about one thing."

Hermione jutted her chin out; she wasn't going into this blind. "Let's hear it, Malfoy."

Draco looked around to ascertain that no one was in hearing distance. "In my absence, listen to François."

"François?" Hermione gasped, astounded, while the visitors to the memory stared on unnoticeably. "The Hit-Wizard? Why?"

"We are close. He will look out for you, in my stead. You can trust him… mostly."

"Draco, what is this about? You don't trust. It just isn't your forte. Why, sometimes I see you surreptitiously sniff the meals I cook. You don't even trust _me_ not to poison you! And out of nowhere, you declare I can trust my life in the hands of a Hit Wizard? An assassin who may boast questionable value for life in the first place?"

Draco bristled, before his placid composure befell his features, before an amused smirk highlighted his face. "Ah… you saw that, did you? I just need to test the food for coconut. I am severely allergic, you see. It gives me, how do I put this delicately… the most severe case of flatulence. I would be unbearable company if you were to feed me anything with coconut. Remember that lunch at the Weasleys? When I had to rush back to the Manor because I… wasn't the most pleasant smelling blossom in the room? I didn't sit on a dungbomb that some Weasley had planted in the back pocket of my pants. I _was_ the dungbomb in my pants."

Hermione's head was tilted to the side in bemused disbelief. "Why do I get the feeling you are trying to distract me?"

"I just reveal my deepest most gassiest secret, and you still don't think I'm sharing enough? Witches! Remind me to modify your memory later tonight. Now, off you go." Draco unceremoniously pushed her away.

Then, just as suddenly, Draco jerked her roughly back to him, her breast flush against his chest. Surprise was the predominant emotion on Hermione's face. Even as a visitor to memory, _Hermione _could appreciate Draco's daybreak gold eyes staring passionately into hers. It turned _her_ on, watching him with her like that.

"Hermione, I forbid you to put yourself in any more danger than is strictly necessary. Once your assignment is over, you leave. Then you stay away. Do you understand me?"

Hermione nodded and then shook her head.

"What does that mean?" Draco snarled and took a step back, his face remote.

"I understand what you are saying, Draco. I appreciate the concern. But you have no right to dictate my professional life. I will not let you interfere with my work any more. I am no more fond of putting myself in jeopardy than you are, so the best I can do is promise that I will take all possible measures to ensure my safety."

The _other _Draco made his appearance, the cold, impenetrable Slytherin with shuttered eyes, and only a withdrawn, arctic brutality. "See to that, or you might not see me again," he hissed his dismissal before stiffly walked away, leaving Hermione to stare after him in frustration. She slowly turned the other way and continued through the corridor to the Minister's office.

The setting changed abruptly for the visitors. Hermione was no longer walking in the corridor but in a chair around the Minister's large table, in his office. The large office was filled to capacity with Aurors, members of DRMC and experts in the field from corresponding departments around the globe.

"I thought I would pick up the pace and proceed to the more pertinent parts," _Hermione_ whispered to the Ministry official, who nodded distractedly.

The din of the softly murmuring officiates dissipated when the door to the office opened inward with a creak. The entrant lured attention with his overshadowing presence.

Reba sighed loudly. Azmeth, a young DRMC member, emitted a sound close to a whimper. Hermione looked up to find a dark gaze scanning the room in unreserved amity. Azmeth's excited waving caught François' attention and he favoured her with an infectious grin. The young girl blushed and nodded at the empty spot on the sofa next to her. The proposed seating arrangement may have sufficed if François was a six-year-old girl.

The Minister for Magic glanced at the clock on the wall before inquiring with a casual smile, "Thank you for coming, François. You are late for a reason?"

François smiled abashedly at the mild rebuke from the Minister and nodded. He reached into the pocket of his coat and took out a transparent plastic box, which he tapped with his finger. The box enlarged into a veritable buffet of a breakfast platter – croissants, danishes, muffins, doughnuts and other obligatory essentials. He placed it on the table, in between the Minister and Hermione, and winked at her. Hermione brought her right hand to her chin and then forward and down, signalling her _thanks _in sign language. François bowed graciously, briefly placing his hand on his heart briefly. The gesture tugged his midnight-blue silk shirt down, which was unbuttoned till the fourth buttonhole; his smooth pectus and chiselled pectorals were briefly glimpsed. Several eyes, male and female, stayed glued for much longer than strictly professional. He splayed his hands, offering his gift to those gathered and walked quietly to stand in an unremarkable corner which went on to become the least inconspicuous one, as Azmeth conspicuously made her way over.

The Minister nodded and gestured forth the Aurors who had just returned from their nocturnal assignments. "This is considerate of you, François. Our night shift could use the fuel, and the rest of us have a long day ahead." Shacklebolt turned to the room. "I wanted to remind everyone that all vampires in the coven are not hostile. Some in the group are Muggle victims, forced into this existence by their sires. We learnt as much from the group in Australia. Also, keep an eye out for Vicot Esway." Shacklebolt handed out an old picture of Vicot to be passed around in the room. "Not above suspicion, but he warned us that Ashram is a vulnerable target. The increased security there, provided by your efforts has helped keep the children safe. Esway then also sent information to Potter that could have purportedly helped us catch the principal sire of the coven, who is customarily the leader of a vampire group. That was either a trap or Esway was compromised - Potter and his team walked into a bloody brawl. Regardless, do not stake Mr Esway on sight, he could have been sincere in efforts to assist us. In fact, try not to stake any vampire that isn't on the attack. Subdue with your wands and the wooden bullets, if feasible. Of course, if it is between you and the vampire, chose you! These creatures are fast and they are strong. Do not take any chances."

The Minister went on to update the assembled with the paltry news from the previous night. The day's assignments were revised.

_Hermione_ could see herself sitting with her spine ramrod straight, her head trained rigidly towards the Minister. _She _saw François glance at her occasionally, as he did everyone in the room. _She _observed him ignore the flirtatious smiles from Azmeth, the DRMC fledgling who had found her North. Every once in a while, people would walk up to the table where Hermione sat and would reach past her, on her right, for a pastry. When François left the wall that he and his newly acquired shadow were leaning against, _Hermione_ saw herself shrivel in her chair, trying to take as little space as possible, moving as far to her left as she could without falling off. One bum is, after all, enough to hang on to a chair.

When François approached the table, _Hermione_ observed from this vantage point that he stood closer to her than perhaps, strictly necessary. He could have avoided crowding her personal space as he did, which he didn't. When he leaned in, he turned toward her just a little, so his chest grazed her shoulder. Hermione jerked away, face flushed. _She _saw the mischievous glint in the black eyes and the leisurely grin he beamed at Harry, who stared right back with granite-hard eyes coloured with exasperation.

After picking up a Danish and a napkin, François sauntered over to Harry and handed him an ivory envelope. Then François returned to the spot Azmeth was keeping warm for him.

While the Minister finished the outline of the day's plans, Harry tore open the sealed envelope and read a note inside. A relieved smile softened his features as Harry retrieved something from the envelope and inspected it carefully, moving it so it glinted in the light. Harry raised his eyes and gestured a thumbs_-_up to François, the British Sign Language equivalent of "good". As the Minister concluded his briefing, Harry approached Hermione.

"Mione, your plan B."

Hermioneread the note and peered inside the envelope to fish out the plain silver ring. She held it up to scrutiny and finally slipped the ring on. It must have been charmed to fit, because it sat perfectly on her right hand's ring finger.

The scenery around them changed like sets in the theatre and the Ministry official and _Hermione_ found themselves in another memory.

"The vampires' hideout… they just brought me in a moment ago," _Hermione_ whispered to the Ministry official who muttered what may have been a "_finally"_.

The room was neither dark nor dingy, but it was definitely a lair. There must have been windows behind the thick, heavy drapes covering an entire wall, but daylight could not have stolen in past the velvet and brocade guards. Electricity powered and lit up the room. That told Hermione that the use of magic must be minimal and the location must be a muggle mansion with someone still paying the bills.

The opulent room played host to about thirty odd vampires. The Ministry had feared the coven to be larger, though they had taken into account that the vampires had not been in Britain too long. Furthermore, the vamps had been fairly discrete in their attacks, entailing leaving the magical population well enough alone. They must have been attacking stray muggles here and there without causing a furore in the muggle newspapers.

Hermione's eyes scoped the room for it's inhabitants, features and possible exits. Seeing few familiar faces, she raised her eyebrow in query, "So this is home? An old mansion in the middle of…"

"Manch..." a well-groomed young man started to fill in the location.

"Shut it, Sweeney!" an authoritative voice boomed from the other side of the room, brooking no argument.

Vampire eyes flicked to and fro, between Hermione and the far side of the room, where the interruption had originated, and where a head bobbed up and down from behind the crowd.

"All right, all right, clear the bloody hell out. Let her through, you fangers!" a thinner, shriller voice rang.

The crowd parted down the centre, some vampires shifting to the left, some to the right. One vampire girl continued to stand in the middle her head oscillating between both sides as if caught in a conundrum.

Hermione walked up to her, "Let me guess, Libra or Gemini?"

The vampire shrugged sheepishly, "Libran. With Gemini rising."

Hermione pointed to the left, ""Head there, better view."

The indecisive vampire scooted to the left and Hermione walked through the cleared path, to the obvious leader in the room. Cloaked in a rich burgundy velvet that had seen better days and less dirt, he was sitting on a throne that must have been the part of a stage play once. The peeling gold paint indicated that the prop had seen better days. Something was wedged under one of the chair's legs, to lend it stability. The dilapidated throne was placed on a large, raised, wooden dais.

_Hermione_ nudged the Ministry official and whispered quickly to him, "Those four vampires were orphaned during the Final Battle." She pointed out the vampires she knew. "They were old enough to remember inherited prejudices, when we opened Ashram. The one on the throne is Nathaniel. He was often at the centre of trouble at the Sanctuary, though he usually stayed out of trouble at school. I used to speak to him frequently, and I thought it helped, but I suppose not."

"Nathaniel, is that a book under your chair?" Hermione asked, censure evident in her tone.

"Why yes, Ms Granger, I finally found a use for my copy of _Hogwarts, a History._"

Hermione's face was marked with the condemnation of a livid schoolmarm. She shook her head and studied her audience again.

"Nathaniel, why on earth are you sitting on a table with its legs sawed off? And Sebastian, why are you wearing that yellow cape?"

The curly-haired red-head in a ridiculous yellow cape made an exaggerated face and squinted his eyes, donning the all-knowing look of a mystery man who knows much, but reveals little.

"We don't need a table to dine,

For, you well know that blood is our wine.

We put the feeder under the prop

So our leader could sit on the top.

The cape is canary, not yellow

Because all-black is dismal and I am a merry fellow."

Sebastian raised one eyebrow but couldn't hold it for too long.

Hermione gaped at Sebastian, as another good-looking vampire with healthy black hair and sharp features approached her from the side. His tight, twisted smile bared his retracted fangs.

_Hermione_ turned to the official and hastily introduced the prominent characters, "The poet was Sebastian. He used to habitually follow Nathaniel around at school and got into all kinds of mischief with him. The vampire approaching is Vicot Essway. He was Nathaniel's best mate in school but managed to maintain a low profile during his time at Ashram. Vicot was the one who came to the Sanctuary a few weeks ago and wrote to Draco later..." _Hermione's _account was cut short when Vicot reached her.

"You'll have to excuse Sebastian's limericks, Ms. Granger. He had trouble keeping jobs because of PTSD, so he worked in this travelling theatre troupe for a while after leaving the Ashram. In one of the Dada plays, he played the part of a vampire who talked in the most prolific of rhymes. He still has the script with him, and really, it is the most brilliant, lyrical prose. He romanticised the idea and hoped that Awakening would automatically grant him the gift. Not much luck."

"My idea, it was my idea!" Nathaniel shouted.

As soon as he had said the words, all vampires immediately reached for their pockets - back pockets, jacket pockets, purses, handbags, old grocery bags and even a plastic Jack-o-lantern shaped Halloween basket. Hermione's body tensed in preparation as she reached for her wand.

As one, the vampires retrieved and took swigs from all manners of hipflasks and bottles, before replacing them.

Hermione looked at Vicot in query, but he prevaricated, smiling slightly, "You'll see."

Her hand was still clenched around her wand when quick as an inhuman flash, Vicot reached out and plucked it from her grasp. Carelessly, he threw it towards a bystander, who fumbled the catch, juggling the wood to and fro between his hands till it accidentally touched his chest. The vampire looked up in dismay, uttered "Bollocks!" and fell, unconscious.

"It's a piece of magical wood, you arse!" Nathaniel bellowed at Vicot. "You know a wand is like an atomic stake! I don't know who the fuck that was, but he was on our side. How many times do I have to tell you to be less rash? It's like I'm talking to a wall. You never listen to me! No one ever listens to me!" Nathaniel hollered.

The vampires reached for their flasks, all simultaneously sipping at their drinks.

"I'll try to be more careful, dear," pacified Vicot, pursing his lips in an affected apology.

"Promises, promises." Nathaniel scowled before directing his attention back to Hermione.

"How generous of you, Miss Granger, to so conveniently walk into our trap. We were planning to demand you as price for our hostage. Honestly, having you here stumps me a little, we were prepared for three days of negotiations to get you here."

"Now that you have me here, what do you plan to do with me?" Hermione enquired icily.

"I forget." Nathaniel looked vacantly at her.

Someone in the crowd behind her cleared their throat.

"Oh, right," Nathaniel resumed, "we are going to drink your blood! Mmheeeheheho. Vicot, approach the bench."

Nathaniel whispered when Vicot neared him, but he was loud enough to be overheard. "Was that laughter evil enough, or still a little forced?"

"Personally, I would end it in a hee haa haaw, not heheho… Don't curve your tongue quite that much at the end. Yes, that's a little better. If you can, raise one eyebrow. No, never mind, leave that be."

Interrupting their little lesson on evil, Hermione attempted to reason with her captors. "Nathaniel, you know vampires can survive just as well on animal blood. You are a vampire, but you do not have to be a murderer. Stop now, there's just too much at stake. Don't hurt any more humans, and I will try to get you a more lenient trial."

Nathaniel shook his head in gloomy disagreement, "Like there is a place left in society for us. Like there ever was a place in society for us? We won't get a fair trial; we won't even get a trial. It'll be straight into the sun for us all. That or a stake through the heart." The crowd murmured in agreement.

Hermione persisted, "I am staking my reputation, even my life, on the promise of getting you fair treatment, if you just surrender now. It still isn't too late, for most of you, anyway. This does not have to end like the sting in Australia, where most were overcome. Raza, your friend from school, he was slain there, wasn't he? It didn't have to be that way. I know this life was not your choice to begin with. We can arrange for rehabilitation counselling. It's been known to help transition vampires with an eighty seven percent success rate. We can provide supervised accommodation and animal blood. I've read pig's blood is closest."

This caught Nathaniel's attention. "So you're willing to sacrifice a pig's life to save yours. I am sure pigs everywhere appreciate your magnanimity. And here I thought, you treated all life as sacred."

Hermione bristled under the attack on her morals. "All life is sacred! But given a choice between killing a pig and killing a human, I would have to kill the pig. Human life is the most sacrosanct."

"And pig life is not? You are such a speceisist!"

"A _speceisist_?" Hermione's hands and nose went up with incredulity.

"Who are you to decide that the pig is not God's most beloved creation? Do you talk to God? Does God talk to you?" Nathaniel argued.

"Er, no… but humans can think and feel..."

"And pigs can not?"

"Humans have a soul, unique personalities, they feel love."

"And pigs do not? Blasphemy! You know, I helped my aunt run her farm after I graduated because no one else would hire the son of Death Eaters. I lived with pigs for two years, and let me tell you, they can be smarter than some humans in this room! Why, there was Oscar, who followed my aunt wherever she went. He couldn't bear to part with her, sat outside her bathroom when she was in, oinked incessantly when she was sick and tried to get her to pet him when he thought she was mad at him. Then there was Belle, who was the biggest flirt at the sty. That swine could reel the hogs in better than the shepherd dog. Then there was Freida, she was the motherly one. All the new piglets ended up nursing with her. And dear Anna, she was so loving, she was the first to give me a chance at the pen. Always saved an affectionate shove for me. She didn't eat for days after we barbequed her mate. I begged my aunt not to serve her at New Year's but she didn't listen. She never listened." Nathaniel wiped tears from his eyes.

As one, the vampires reached for their flasks.

Hermione inched her head closer to Vicot. "A drinking game?"

Vicot raised his flask to her. "Every time he claims the vampire army was his idea or…"

"Or that no one listens to him?" Hermione filled in.

Vicot shrugged. "No one does."

"Really? Then how is he the leader of this coven?"

"Who said he is?"

"The man is sitting on a throne, on a butchered pedestal."

"Keeps the lesser minds fooled, and him happy. After all, he is the oldest vampire in the room, our principal sire."

Vicot's smile had turned five more shades evil.

Hermione took a step away in revulsion. "_You_ command this coven?"

* * *

**Dear all,** Wow, it has been long since I updated, I know. I'm sorry. I have excuses… Work, the flu and discovering real books (Fabulous series like the _Mortal Instruments_ by Cassandra Clare, _Vampire Academy_ by Richelle Mead… also her _Storm Born_ and _Thorn Queen_ for adult readers… then the _Cassandra Palmer_ series by Karen Chance… I've been taken with paranormal romances like never before!) Then, of course I had no clue how to handle the Vampire face-off. I loathe writing action sequences. So I was wondering for ages what to write before I came up with the idea to turn it into a tragic comedy of sorts. Then I had to figure how to make it tragic, or comic, or at the very least, absurd. Not my comfort zone, _at all_.

I can't help but psycho-analyse my reluctance towards finishing the story I may be… scared. What will happen after I'm done with the story? How will I fill the chasm that will be created without your reviews and PMs? _Sigh._ I could always get some balls and write the real book floating in my head, demanding to be written… but would any one be interested in _buying_ it with _actual _money? Oh, the whimsical dreams of another wannabe writer!

**Dear, dear Liz16**, thank you for the lovely Christmas message, it was my favourite present this year! I wanted to send you an online present… but you have, sadly, disabled private messaging. I was unable to post this at Christmas, but here it is now, and I hope you like it. Hope you had good holidays too!

A huge thank you to **geminiamr05** for posting my story's link at Accio DHR. A website where people recommend… you guessed it… DHr fanfics.

This was 14 pages, but since I am a good girl, and I wanna make up for being gone so long… guess what? I will (after more tedious last-minute edits) post about 13 more pages tomorrow. Not so bad, eh?

As always, **your reviews and concrit** mean more than I could ever express. **A HUGE thanks to everyone who recently wrote in support and encouragement.** I just regret it took me this long to respond. Superstars in my world: **blueskyshymoon-olgameisterfunk, the written princess, mw87, Lily237, serena2010, tfobmv18, mentarisenja, margaritama, Slytherinchica08, Chelsey89, nathy7, kh2020, Erica, Pixie-Fate, helenkeomany, evenstar101, MissMally, Coeur de l'amour x2, Italian Rose, Liz16, brandonlov, blueidpanda, ren-san, Squash, Super-girl-straight-from-hell, caseyjarryn, mayaharuna, tofi-stars, Frozen Darkness, Valkarie, HarryPGinnyW4eva, Kels2247, Krish, Hicksy59, Lily, TheCullenCrest, lyl wind, Kayla, DaOnLeeSam, Simkey, CimiRace, ebbe04, Malechi x2, Li0n3ss, SolarGuardianChick, alina290, The nameless soul, CEA, Rats, Ceylon x2, The Epitome of Wonders and Amanda x 6** (with valuable concrit that I will definitely keep in mind if I go back to polish the story from the start, once it's all done. Done? _Gasp!_

Please review, to cure me from this fit of hyper-ventilation? Yeah, leave a review, save a life :)


	38. R Equals mc2

Kudos to the brilliant **Scarlettcat** for her thorough edits and spicy ideas. Changes after betaing mean mistakes all mine! The rhyme at the end is completely hers (_That death scene was lame_…) Be sure to check out her story Babysitting Blues!

Warning: Strong Language

* * *

**R= mc2**

**Where R is reality, m is moment, and c is the certainty of beliefs**

Hermionetook a step away in revulsion. "_You _command this coven?"

"Command is such a strong word. I prefer guide. Everyone employs free will." Vicot turned his head around to their apt audience.

"When you came to the sanctuary…?"

"Little children make such excellent hostages!" Esway shrugged and smiled in a way that gave Hermione creepy goosebumps.

"I consider myself non-violent, Esway, but I can not wait to get my stake in you." Hermione enunciated each word sharp and unmistakable.

"Why, Ms. Granger," Vicot mocked. "Don't you like me? I thought we were being so hospitable, too." As Vicot reached out to brush a curl out of her face, Hermione flinched back.

Vicot laughed.

"Do not touch me," she hissed with loathing.

"You're not my type Ms Granger," Vicot hissed back, amused.

"Oh, is my Muggle blood not good enough for your tastes, vampire?"

"I wasn't referring to your food worthiness, Mudblood," replied Vicot, his face transforming into an acrid imitation of the one before. "I was referring to the unsavoury personage that is you… the revered, sanctimonious, hypocritical Hermione Granger. Intrusive, judgmental bitch. Can't be _normal_, mind your own bloody business and just live with your head down, can you? Noooo… _You _have to make a spectacle of yourself all the fucking time. At school you meddled with things beyond your comprehension. Helped saintly Order members murder my parents, murder our Master! You and those bastards that follow you around… half-blood Potter, blood traitor Weasley and the worst coward of them all, that gutless turntail, Malfoy!" he spat viciously. The diatribe didn't end. "You had to go and change the world. Well, you changed it, but to what end? What of the consequences? What of us? When we graduated, did society welcome, hell, even accept us? Did we even get a glimpse at the Utopia you promised so easily? Think hard before you answer that question, Ms. know-it-all. And let's see, how was life for you after the war? How much did you struggle socially? Financially? You lived like kings and queens, wrapped up in comforts and success. Writing history as you pleased, just because your side won. Then you started dating Malfoy… on your way to making more half-bloods... and that just made us value you _so_ much more! You corrupt everything you touch, you mud-blood whore!" Without a warning, Vicot had Hermione's scalp in a painful grip, and he pulled her head back violently.

Hermione didn't seem to register the pain though; she had him fixed in a stare before she softly, dangerously, stated her next, "Were you responsible for my baby's death, Vicot?"

Vicot's fangs had come out during his angry monologue and he bared them viciously as he leaned in closer. "As much as I would like to take credit for that, you lost the monstrosity all on your own, bitch. I have to acknowledge, Mother Nature knows her trade- one less freak in the world. Karma is a bitch, Granger." Vicot pulled at her hair to shove her away.

Hermione staggered back.

"What are you two talking about?" called Nathaniel from his thrown. "I don't care what he tells you. It was my idea. Mine!"

Flasks immediately were clinked together and downed in one gulp.

"A bluebird was sitting on a tree,  
When it saw a bumblebee  
Let us waste no more time,  
And just kill her, if you ask me.  
I like my lips red and my hands bloody,  
It's indulgent, if a little messy," Sebastian whined.

Hermione glanced from one vacuous face to another, "There's something wrong here, something seriously medically wrong here. Something doesn't fit. You, you all…"

Vicot's smile lost some of its malevolent edge. He looked tired. "Nathaniel killed a cow and brought it home, many of the coven fed on it. A week later, all of the farm's cows were slaughtered and burnt because of a virus. Mad cow."

"So you could have Mad Cow Disease." Hermione concluded.

"Indeed, but I don't." Vicot edged a thumb into his leather belt, cocking his head.

"You got yourself checked?"

"No, but I would know if I were barmy."

"How many of the coven do you think have been infected?"

"About ten percent."

Someone in the crowd let out a faked fit of coughs.

"Maybe thirty percent."

_Cough cough_

"Last offer, at fifty."

"Sold!" a woman shouted in the back.

Hermione surveyed the room dubiously. "Half of you may have the virus? And you drink and share your food, don't you? So it could spread further. Have you seen healers? They could have something for this!"

"Job here is a healer. He says nothing can be done. Those affected won't die anytime soon, unless you count three hundred years, soon… but their intellectual capabilities may be progressively compromised." Vicot placed his hand on the table behind him and leaned in casually.

"You're saying that Nathaniel and the rest will get steadily worse for the next three hundred years?"

"Yes, unfortunately, that is the prognosis." Vicot shrugged nonchalantly.

"How do you feel about that?"

"Are you kidding me? Are you here to psychoanalyse us, or slay us?"

"The first, really. I don't intend to let any innocent or repenting souls be unfairly punished." Hermione surveyed the room curiously, to check for reactions.

"We are neither innocent, nor repenting." Vicot roared, loudly enough to make the Ministry official take a jolted step back, though _Hermione _was glad to notice that she had held her ground. The cringe hardly counted in face of the old-dog-breath.

"You forgot you also don't have souls. Still, if given the choice would anyone here want to renege from this charming arrangement?" Hermione saw more than a few rueful faces that looked as if they weren't allowed the freedom to comment. She thought she had glimpsed the same remorse in Nathaniel's eyes, but couldn't be sure.

"He's mean!" a high-pitched, rebellious voice rang out.

The occupants of the room whisked their heads around to stare down the defiant young girl.

"He forced me to become a vampire and then he forced me to drink from the stupid cow and then he forced me to wear these idiotic costumes and then he forced me to sleep in this dreary, mangy mansion. He passes out fake cobwebs to hang up 'for ambience' and Tracey, that stupid cow, tells us to dust it all off the next hour. He wants us to practice looking scarier while we hunt, but doesn't let us go out and hunt. I am tired of all this, I want my freedom. I want out" The girl was obviously a teenager.

"Where out? There is no out for us," another unidentified voice rang out.

"That's just bollocks!" the teenager exclaimed, "There are other vampires whose existence isn't half as mind numbing as ours! They go to vampire concerts, they play laser tag and they even go to special clubs at night. Us? We just sit in this stupid mansion, learning how to be scary from B-grade American vampire movies where male actors wear too much lipstick and no one knows how to act. If I hear one more person say, 'I want to suck your blood', I'm going to puke. And _he _wants us to learn to be more vampire-like from a fictional character named Lestat… when the truth is, I'd rather bone a good-looking bloke than im-pale him. Get it? Him pale."

Vicot looked on indulgently, as if amused at the shenanigans of a younger sister. "Yes Sienna, we got it the first forty times you used that pun. All right then, let's vote. All those in favour of continuing indiscriminating violence to cause bedlam in the streets of magical Britain, and of course, create another army, please gather in that part of the hall, to my right. All those who would rather discontinue with the aggressive ways, but conversely, would prefer to continue on their own personal quests, instead of joining ours, please gather on my left. Those who no longer wish to pursue Death Eater or vampiric agendas please gather in front of me. Those who don't care either ways please stand in front of the dais. Those who like my fashion sense, please gather behind me. Those who like the colour yellow gather to my Northeast. Those who will be happy to survive on animal blood for the rest of their lives, please leave the mansion, honestly, there's no room for you here. Those of you who are willing to join the Community to Clean Our Domicile, please sign up with Tracey afterwards, and we would like everyone to volunteer at least three hours a week to help the COD."

Hermione and her memory's visitors watched on as vampires segregated themselves into the various groups. A handful of vampires, male and female, left the mansion after indifferent goodbyes. About seven of them gathered to Vicot's left, indicating that they were not averse to the violence, but did not care for an agenda. About ten gathered to his right; these were the vampires who supported Death Eater principles. No one defied Vicot by an outright renouncing of Death Eater ambitions, but three women and two men assembled in front of the dais, indicating lack of strong beliefs either ways. The rest scattered in different directions, nodding at each other sagely or shook their heads and rolled their eyes as they lauded and critiqued Vicot's sense of style. A man with long, blond-from-a-can hair was arguing with a heavy-set lady that chartreuse was more green than yellow. The Libran-Gemini kept hopping between groups.

Hermione speculated whether this had been Vicot's way to identify and isolate the groups that were to be targeted in a subsequent raid. Or, if it was his way of telling her that not all these vampires were culpable for the acts committed in their name. Perhaps he was just taken over by the debilitating disease, enough, to know none of the implications of his actions.

The seventeen more aggressive vampires were sending her death glares and one of them left the group to walk menacingly towards Hermione. She squared her shoulders and jutted her chin out.

_Hermione_ leaned in closer to the Ministry official to quickly ruminate, "Fargo was a part of the Sanctuary in younger years, though a distant uncle adopted him a few years in. The motivation may have been Fargo's inheritance, rather than a sense of filial duty, but I had no legal rights to keep him at Ashram, when a relative appeared on the scene."

Fargo was now standing too close for comfort, his chest almost brushing her's. _Hermione_ recalled that he had smelled of old blood and stale meat.

"So now are we ready to drink from this Mudblood? Merlin knows it is almost as bad as drinking from that sick cow. This blood can't be any cleaner. The only thing going for her is the miniscule traces of magic her blood sports. I'm sure there isn't enough magic in her to last us all, but at least she has a decent enough body to play with after she has served one purpose."

Hermione had just clasped her hands in front of her when Nathaniel leaped off the dais in unmitigated anxiety.

"No, no! Don't!"

All eyes turned to him in one astounded motion.

"What's wrong with you, Nathaniel?" Fargo spat, his eyes crinkled in disgust. "Let me amend that, I know much of what is wrong with you. What motivates you to want her alive?"

"Alive?" Nathaniel blinked, "Life is such an illusory concept. Is undead alive?"

Vicot's eyebrows hit his hairline. "You have been naughty my dear. You didn't share your endgame with me. I must admit, that diabolical mind of yours can be very iniquitous indeed." Vicot's fangs bared in a malicious smile, "Ms. Granger, I admit, I can see the benefits of having that mind of yours amongst our brethren."

"I can see the benefits of a stake in your chest," Hermione threw back deadpanned.

"What?" Fargo protested, "Has everyone here gone completely mental? We are Death Eaters! Forgotten that, have you? We are to destroy those that murdered our parents and the Dark Lord, not initiate them into our private clubs. Am I the only one who sees that?"

"No you aren't," Vicot gazed speculatively at Hermione before continuing, "I see the incentives, but even if I were to disregard her filthy blood, the sheer drudgery of her tiring company is disincentive enough. It is impossible. She can mean nothing to us. Nothing, except dinner. Nathaniel, I have let you get away with much, but this treasonous thought was unpardonable. Now, down, boy." Swift as a cobra's strike, Vicot's hand had removed his wand from his pocket and jabbed it at Nathaniel's vulnerable stomach with the blunt end.

Nathaniel fell to the floor clutching his heart.

"I loved you Hermione, I always loved you, still do, always will. Well, not for long." His head fell back, his still eyes wide open.

"That love scene was lame,  
I could have put him to shame.  
He has no passion,  
She is only a ration.  
Let us move on,  
Before dinner is gone."  
Sebastian's contribution to the general confusion went more or less unnoticed, due to the uproar in the wake of Nethaniel's proclamation.

Hermione stared at the motionless body, horror-struck, still trying to process Nathaniel's last words. Then he coughed huskily and started to croak again.

"You were the only woman for me. If I couldn't have you, I'd have no other."

Hermione glanced askance at Vicot, who stood poker-faced, till a Goth girl walked over and kicked the lying Nathaniel in his ribs. "What was I, you dolt?"

Nethaniel looked beseechingly at Hermione. "Does she look like she counts? She never understood me. No one did. You always understood me at the Sanctuary. You always made time for me, spent hours talking with me. You were the only one who could see into my sensitive interior. The only one who ever listened to me. Even my aunt didn't listen to me. She threw me off the farm, but I didn't steal any of her pigs. It was a vampire all the time, only when I waited to ambush the real thief that day, to prove my innocence, he ambushed me instead, and I became a vampire. Trust my fortune to tempt an animal-feeder to fall off the wagon! And then, once I realised what a gift being Awakened was, I approached my former friends, and sired them too, initiating them to powers they could only have dreamt of before. And now, this is how I have been repaid? My best friend hath murdered me! Et tu Brutus?" Nathaniel turned accusingly towards Vicot.

Vicot scorned the theatrics with a hiss before responding, "I haven't killed you, you fanger. I incapacitated you, not well enough, apparently. If I had meant for you to die, I'd have staked you in the heart, not wanded you with the wrong end on your stomach. Now be a dear and let the adults talk, right?"

"You never take me seriously!" Nathaniel complained. Some of the crowd reached for their flasks as a discussion broke out in the group.

"Does that count?"

"Well, he didn't say the exact words…"

"Yet, they were meant in spirit, I reckon."

"QUIET!" Fargo shouted before continuing frustratedly, "You know what? I am done with him." A split second later, Hermione registered a loud shatter, the ramshackle throne laying on its side and it's compromised leg staked into Nathaniel's chest. Nathaniel's pained face disintegrated into a thousand shards of dried earth.

Vicot growled menacingly, his lengthening fangs omniously visible. "Did I not just say that I didn't mean for him to die? Didn't you hear me?"

Several vampires hesitantly raised their flasks to drink but thought better of it when the table behind Vicot, the one he had been leaning on, crashed loudly onto the floor, broken and splintered right down the middle. A large jagged chunk of the deathly oak sat lightly in Vicot's hand.

"He was in love with a Mudblood," protested Fargo, taking a step back.

"Who died and made you leader?" Vicot threw the wood casually from one hand to the other.

"Err... Nathaniel?"

With lightening fast speed, Vicot was behind Fargo, the makeshift stake pointed right above Fargo's unprotected chest.

"Yes… err… of course… sorry." Fargo's body language lost all aggression, as the alpha male of the coven re-established his position. "I was just trying to help focus attention to what's important."

"Again…"

"Sorry."

"Sorry, what?"

"Sorry… sir?"

"I do believe you can do better than that. You can wait for me in my bedroom."

Fargo stood rooted to the spot till two other vampires walked up behind him and dragged him screaming up the stairs.

Some eyes followed Fargo's progress with censure, some with amusement while others seemed to shrug it off with a "taste of his own medicine." A few eyes, though, were turned away in disgust and remorse.

Vicot turned to Hermione. "Time for dinner, brothers and sisters. Dessert can't wait forever. Ms Granger, I never did thank you for the substandard care you took of us in school. Oh, now I recall, it was because it was rather… substandard."

Hermione's expressions was earnest, her tone sincere, "It was the best I could do at the time, Vicot. It really was. I'm sincerely sorry it wasn't good enough."

"All in the past. Let's drink to it, shall we? Boys and girls, gather close, this one can be tricky."

Hermione saw the vampire ranks close in on her as she clasped her hands. "Vicot, you know me better than this. Do you really think I would come to a vampire's lair unprepared? That I would let you overpower me this easily? When the stakes are so high?"

"What are you going to do? You can't Apparate out, we have wards up. You don't know where we live, so even if you leave somehow, you can not get back with your pitiful friends."

"Esway, it really is a shame that you did not pay more attention in school. If you had, you might have remembered about this… PORTUS."

Hermione felt the ring on her right finger hum with a vibration that soon shook the entire ballroom. The Portkey was activated.

"Aurors! It's snowing Aurors! It's like Christmas!" someone exclaimed wondrously.

Aurors from different continents were landing everywhere, some on the marble floor and some on the vampires themselves. Confusion provided Hermione with the desired diversion to Accio her wand. The consequential fracas consumed each participant in the room, except for the peace-desiring vampires that stood in a side in observable surrender. Hermione unleashed a series of stunners onto one of the more malignant vampires and was about to go after Vicot when a strong hand grasped hers from behind, making her loose her balance and fall backward, against a hard... chest? In the middle of a fight, she was being manhandled by François. Hermione remembered feeling a tingle and a tug at her heart… no, it must have been her stomach… because suddenly they were Portkeying out and away from the action. François and Hermione landed at Minister Shacklebolt's office; the Ministry official and _Hermione_ in tow.

"Are you insane, François? We are leaving them two fighters short! Take me back NOW!"

François pointed his wand at her and before Hermione could belt out a Protego to shield herself, blue light from his wand had bound her to a chair.

"He is fast," the Ministry official muttered. _Hermione_ snorted.

François, with his proficient evasiveness was gone before the bound Hermione could spew out her volley of invectives.

"You chauvinistic, no-good pile of scum!"

Hermione glanced scornfully at the blue rays imprisoning her. She knew this spell, well. Draco employed this particular spell when bondage was his game of choice in intimate moments, which was, not shockingly, often enough. Well, whatever got him off- as long as he made sure he got her off too, which he was meticulous about. There was something about bondage at Draco's mercy, it was dangerously sexy. It upped her adrenaline levels, intensified her body's reactions and ebbed her inhibitions like little else. However, Hermione Jane Granger was nobody's fool. The first time Draco had immobilised her with these unknown blue lights, had been the only time its counter-curse had remained unknown.

In a whispered spell, Hermione freed herself. She checked her hand and the irritation on her face intensified. The ring was gone.

Hermione picked up a paperweight from the desk and skewed her eyes in concentration, pointing her wand at the object. It vanished. She Accioed an enormous map of magical United Kingdom and took off her Kunzite pendant to use as pendulum. She had been scrying over the detailed map for less than a minute when the crystal fell over a small wooded area in Manchester. The expression on Hermione's face was fairly smug.

The expression on the Ministry official's was fairly befuddled.

_Hermione_ clarified her actions to him, with just a little hint of pride, "I have been experimenting with a spell to Apparate objects to a desired location, instead of having to parcel them via owls. I apparated it outside the mansion."

The official raised his eyebrows, his lips forming a surprised 'o', before he whispered back, "How could you be sure? The object may have just Splinched itself and landed elsewhere!"

"An improvisation from a telly series called Charmed… I tracked it with a…" before _Hermione _could finish, the official's befuddled countenance changed to one of shock. The visitors were getting tugged along for the piggy-back ride, as Hermione Apparated outside the Vampire's lair, her wand at the ready.

"What is a dellee?" the official asked as soon as their feet landed, but they had to run fast to keep up with Hermione who ran into a maelstrom of commotion.

Mêlée had hit the fan and splashed back in stinking glory. Beams from wands and bared fangs glinted like white bras in black light. Hermione rounded on Vicot, who was educing the most brutal of skirmishes, between standing in the corner and doing nothing but observing the fracas, blending in with those who had surrendered.

Vicot's magic was not at its most potent, but his vampire powers made him somewhat resistant to the curses from her wand, as was the case with most wizard-sired vampires. This was part of the reason the wizarding community left vampires mostly alone, if they returned the favour. A confrontation with them was not devoid of casualties and collateral damage.

Hermione and Vicot parried fiercely for several minutes, neither making much progress. Hermione kept him at a safe distance with a volley of spells as he dodged and danced at paranormal speeds in his attempt to sink his fangs into her neck. His brute strength alone would have crushed each bone in her body, had he just managed to get his arms around her.

"You had us fooled. We almost believed you were helping us." Hermione gasped after a long spell of duelling.

"I was." Vicot threw nonchalantly.

"You were?"

"Ms. Granger, you will never understand the workings of a more complicated mind. Deceit and diplomacy go a long way in winning wars."

"This is your war?"

Vicot ducked his head in a bow of mock respect. "I would tell you, but the best way to torture you would be to keep your chronically curious soul in suspense. Till there is no soul left, that is. Then, perhaps, I may reveal all."

Hermione stare at him incredulously. "I thought you said I could be nothing more than dinner."

Vicot shrugged. "I changed my mind."

"You think amongst all this, you will be able to sire me?" Hermione's tone was infused with derision. "You are as insane as the rest of them."

"I don't think I can sire you. I know I can. I've been studying your methods, you see. I know, for example that you like to use spells to deflect and subdue rather than maim or kill." Vicot spat. "So I know I am under no real threat from your wand. Your weakness is your empathy. You should have seen the look on your face when I incapacitated Nathaniel. Oh, poor, poor Nathaniel and the illustrious Hermione Granger. What a pair you would have made."

"He was your friend!"

"He was more than a friend. He was a means to an end that served his purpose well enough, till you showed up. I lost a front man. You will pay for that!"

Vicot disappeared from Hermione's field of vision and instantaneously materialised behind her. The Ministry official wheezed as Vicot grasped Hermione in a vice-like grip, the tremendous strength of his arms rendering her own limbs immobile. But _Hermione's_ eyes were not on the Hermione trying to wriggle fruitlessly for the gun she couldn't reach and the wand she couldn't angle to impede Vicot. No, _Hermione's_ eyes went to the quiet man watching the struggle as he tied his comatose opponent in bonds of silver. A man with dark curls and black-hole eyes that were shooting death glares. Still in the death-grip, Hermione nodded at François, mouthing a "Howdy?"

The sharp venom-coated fangs had just grazed her neck when green light zipped out from François' wand. Though it wasn't enough to kill Vicot, it was enough. The disoriented Vicot loosened his hold around Hermione, enough for her to reach for her modified gun and shoot into his chest. Then, she staked him.

The disbelief on the wicked face desiccated, cracked and smashed to smithereens. "Dust to dust," Hermione whispered and turned to fight again.

The fracas continued for another half an hour or so. Hermione had seen Harry fighting in one part of the ballroom and she inched her way through. The vampires were throwing weak curses from afar, but they were also impervious to many of the spells aimed their way, so it took tremendous effort to wear them down, but the international team did it, vampire by vampire. Hermione and Reba had just captured one with combined effort when she saw a movement in the shadows.

Fargo.

His wand was pointed towards François, whose back was turned as he restrained another captive. Hermione jumped in front of François and uttered an Expelliarmus, but it was too late. A beam of faint red light had already left Fargo's wand and it hit her in the side. Hermione fell to the floor, writhing in agony, but the pain lifted moments later, as she saw Fargo's ashes scatter on the floor. François glared at Hermione before jerking her upright and checking her for wounds. Hermione swatted his hands and concern away, but he remained by her side thereafter. They fought together after that, though if interrogated about it under the Veritaserum, Hermione would have reluctantly admitted to being rendered inferior in terms of contribution. Her smarts were unparalleled, having devised the plan to penetrate the Vampires head quarters by baiting them; her courage was incontestable, dangling herself as said bait despite Harry's and Draco's remonstrations; but her field skills and battle instincts were not as keen as a Hit Wizard's.

It didn't take much longer after that, with the authority figures of the coven disbursed off, the lowered morale was a psychological weapon. The last of the fighting vampires that weren't slain, capitulated in the face of imminent and final death.

Hermione surveyed the dismal chaos. François placed a protective hand over the small of her back as he guided her around the debris on the floor. Hermione neither flinched nor reacted to that. They walked over to where Harry stood.

"You all right, Harry?" Hermione scanned her best friend for injuries.

Harry held out his hand and Hermione stepped away from François to clasp it.

"I am. But some of them, they were just kids," Harry's voice was empty in their victory. "Hermione, would you please head to the Ministry and get the debriefings started? I need to tie up some loose ends."

Hermione nodded at the men before Harry huddled off in a one-sided discussion with François.

_Hermione_ and the Ministry official were pulled up and out from the Pensieve.

"Now you know," she shrugged.

"I reckon I do." the official wiped the sweat off his sparsely endowed forehead. "I do not understand some parts, though. I will have to read Monsieur François' report. I wonder who is debriefing him. Why did he intervene, retrieving you from the mansion?" The official slanted his head sideways, suspiciously.

Hermione slumped against the chair and then laid her head down on the table in exhaustion. "He didn't tell me, as you saw. If we are quite done here, I need to see a healer. That last spell… and I require a preventative potion for Mad Cow. I have some cuts that risk getting infected, and I am so very tired."

The official jumped up and out of his chair, causing again, the metallic screeching that grated on Hermione's nerves. "But of course, Ms. Granger," he gushed, " thank you for all your cooperation today. I have spoken to many on the team, but the varying versions of their accounts were laid to rest with seeing the events as they unfolded. The reality of the situation was truly absurd to observe first-hand. You were right, the Pensieve was a brilliant idea, but then, yours is a brilliant mind."

Hermione nodded briefly at the official, siphoned her memories out and away from the Pensieve, bent down to pick up her bag from the floor and got up from the chair slowly, quietly. With dignified grace, she walked out from interrogation room number four.

Hermione made her way to the on-site infirmary where healers were checking on the Aurors and DRMC members. She thought, with a heavy heart, of the two members they had tragically lost. She prayed for the critically injured who had been rushed to St Mungo's. Providentially, most on the team had made it through with minor injuries and hexes. The number of witches and wizards in the ambush had overwhelmed the vampire coven. The international cooperation had successfully and finally squandered the vampire infestation. Hermione was not foolish enough to presuppose that there would be no more prejudiced megalomaniacs or dangerous magical creatures in their future. Hopefully, though, they had bought themselves a respite.

Hermione joined a queue outside the clinic, where a young witch was directing individuals to empty beds, screened by the metal and cloth contraptions characteristic of hospices. Except, these screens also protected the patient's privacy by way of a Silencing charm.

Hermione made her way to bed '6' as directed, and smiled at the young healer who greeted her sombrely. "Ms Granger, hello. I'm Healer Choi. How do you feel today?" he asked in a clipped tones as he motioned for her to lay supine on the inclined bed.

"Exhausted, dizzy, betrayed and confused," Hermione answered, then shook her head in disgust. "Before anything else, can I get an antidote to Veritaserum please?"

The healer left and returned with a small vial that Hermione quickly swallowed.

While asking her about her injuries, Healer Choi scanned her body, his wand intermittently glowing and emitting a range of oddly familiar sparks. He honed in on the areas of injury and applied potions and spells to help heal and reduce recovery time. Then he stood and stared pointedly at her, in painful silence, for more than Hermione could patiently tolerate.

"Do you have some bad news to deliver, Healer Choi? Tell me," Hermione braced herself, "I assure you I can take it without causing a scene."

The healer looked fairly judgmental, as he began his lecture, "Magic courses through veins, so wizard-vampires, though they gain considerable strengths, lose their magic unless they keep drinking magical blood. Fortunately for us, and unfortunately for the muggles, these vampires had been hard-pressed to find a wizarding population large enough to feed their masses. This made their magic, and therefore the potency of the spell that hit you, weaker. Had you been subjected to the full blast of it, you could have died instantly. As it is, you sustained severe lacerations which will take days to heal. It is a wonder, really, that your baby survived."

"My WHAT?" Hermione sat up straight, aghast.

"Well, it's one of the first things we check for in injured witches. You aren't pregnant by much, because the wand barely glowed, but you are pregnant. Maybe just under a month. You didn't know?"

"Maybe, just under two weeks?" Hermione mumbled, making quick calculations in her head.

"That is not possible, the magical essence the wand detected was too strong for that young an embryo. And the chances of such a vulnerable life surviving the trauma your body just endured? Improbable. Even now, you should consider this a miracle. I strongly recommend taking extra precautions for the next three months."

Hermione was nonplussed. " I do… I will. Uh… does anyone know? Other than you and I?"

"No Miss Granger. Patient confidentiality."

"Can I leave?"

"If you make sure to visit your women's healer tomorrow, for follow up, I don't see why not. You have a good day." With that, Healer Choi left to greet his next patient.

Hermione got up gingerly, dangled her legs off the bed to get the circulation going before slowly hopping off the spartan bed. She was walking robotically toward the door when she saw Azmeth enter the clinic. The women asked about each other, made concerned queries after people they knew and parted ways.

Then Hermione turned around and caught Azmeth just before she entered a cordoned off space. As unaffectedly as she could muster, Hermione asked, "Have you seen François?"

Azmeth stiffened. "Why?" she asked curiously, with a mere hint of hostility.

"I need to talk to him," Hermione offered vaguely.

Azmeth threw her hair back. "I haven't seen François," the name fell of the young girl's lips like petals soaked in honey, "but I saw Draco Malfoy when I came in. _He _is sitting right outside the clinic, waiting for _you_." The inflections in the last sentence were reminiscent more of thorny cacti than honeyed blossoms.

Hermione thanked Azmeth dryly, turned back around towards the exit and sighed wearily.

_This ought to be pleasant._

* * *

So, 15 pages yesterday and 14 today. You think I deserve a review, don't ya? :) Course you do, you're a darling!


	39. Fallen Poster Boys

1. Heartfelt appreciation for the talented **mw87**- the dear girl replies at super speed! She mulled over the preview extensively, and obliged me with fabulously constructive feedback. Then, once I sent her the final chapter, she betaed and returned it the very next day! **This chapter is an emotional roller coaster and she is the reason that many of you won't throw up ;)** If some of you still do, that's all me. **MW87** did a fabulous job **toning down my hysterics, perking up my narrative, fixing errors aplenty and teaching me apprx. five grammar rules,** while sounding like a doll through it all! Hopefully I'll remember at least two of 'em rules! Please check out her very intelligent and very witty stories**, _In All Her Wisdom _**and **_Hermione's Victory_**. Her Athena is a very well developed, enchantingly complicated character, with infinite nuances. And her Snape is… _gulp._

2. Thanks to all the reviewers! Shout-out to unsigned-in Amanda, who left almost a review per chapter with very cogent points. Thanks loads, A! I am grateful for your honest feedback! But how am I gonna answer all those questions, if you're not logged in, girl? :)

**Reviewers who brightened my snow-filled days: **Ceylon (4), Malechi (2), mentarisenja, The nameless soul, ren-san, Italian Rose, Ladydraco79, kh2020, HarryPGinnyW4eva (2), Pixie-Fate, xxDracoDragonxx, margaritama (2), Ceylon (2), Jade2099, jeeng, BookLover299, yadyforever, ThePureAndSimpleTruth, Liz16(2), tfobmv18, mw87(2), Pixie-Fate, brandonlov (2), Lily (2), alina290 (2), HP0247, dg17, flying vampire monk, everytimeyoulookatme, CimiRace, caseyjarryn, AliasFan4Lyfe (2), nathy7, WitchAllonby, g-, Fantasy Trickster, Frozen Darkness, evenstar101 (2) and Slythindor Complex.

My gratitude to Scarlettcat, again, for the tremendous betaing and much-appreciated support thereafter. (You rock, S!)

3. I just re-read a few of the initial chapters of this story, and I gotta ask: How did you make it so far? Wow, thanks for not giving up on me during all that nonsense, non-stop narrative! Even I was bored ;)

Be prepared for Drama. Notice the capital D?

* * *

**Fallen Poster Boys**

Hermione stepped out of the clinic to find Draco seated on a leather-upholstered couch. He must have transfigured it out of the standard-issue wooden benches that dotted the waiting area. Hunched forward with his head down and elbows resting on his tensed thighs, he exuded weariness. As if sensing her presence, he lifted his head, allowing Hermione a glimpse of arctic grey.

Hermione approached him slowly and came to a stop close enough so he could have reached out to take her hand. The chill in his eyes, however, discouraged any notions of intimacy. A cold sense of foreboding crept into Hermione's nerves.

"We need to talk," she murmured softly.

He nodded curtly and studied his shoes before getting up.

"How are you?" he asked abruptly without sparing her a glance, as they made their way to the Floo channels.

"I am fine. You doing all right?" Hermione responded in a placating tone, hoping for a thaw.

"Fine," Draco stated tonelessly, scowling at the Ministry employees who did not shift aside hastily enough to let them pass.

Cringing under the near-silent treatment and the crashing waves of antipathy, Hermione felt like a potion being stirred wrong.

_I'M PREGNANT!_ She wanted to shout and hug and thrill in the joy of it all, but she would have to wait to tell Draco her news.

_I'm pregnant! We are having a baby! We're getting another chance at this! I am pregnant!_

Hermione was ready to weep with happiness, but this wasn't how she wanted to tell him. Not when they couldn't even bear to talk.

_Maybe at home_, she thought to herself, _when he is calmer, mellower. _She would wait till after they conciliated from the row that even she could foresee, despite her abject lack of divination skills.

Back at her flat, Hermione folded her soiled coat neatly and placed it in a plastic bag to take to the cleaners. She placed her purse on a shelf in the coat closet. Draco threw his coat on the sofa, subjecting it's unmarred surface to soot and Merlin knew what else.

"Can you not do that?" Hermione snapped.

"What?"

"Create even more mess. As it is, I am sure you left the bed unmade this morning. I don't have house-elves here, and I am tired of cleaning aft-" Hermione fell silent abruptly, wondering why she was snapping at him. She attributed it to nerves.

Draco ignored the coat, leaving it where it lay. He sat down on the love seat and motioned for Hermione to sit on the couch opposite to him.

Hermione slumped down, exhausted. The vampire dust from her clothes would get into the couch. She'd ask him to clean it tomorrow. By then, he would be in his over-protective, pampering mode; he'd probably do it singing. Not that she had ever heard him sing. Not even a hum in the shower.

"I need to know what you told the Ministry Official." Draco was all business.

Hermione thought back to her evasive tactics during the interrogation. "He insisted I have the Veritaserum, and I couldn't refuse. The potency of the brew mandated that I couldn't lie, but I _could _equivocate. Unless he asked me a direct question, I could omit telling _all _I knew. So, I digressed into irrelevant details to camouflage little truths. I spoke about François," she glared at him accusingly, "in prevaricating third person context - _Reba told me François is a Hit Wizard… rumour has it…I heard this and that…_ information about the character you have created, all truths and all of them misleading. The official never indicated knowledge of François' identity, so I assumed it didn't need discussing. When he kept pressing for details, I asked for a Pensieve so I could avoid conversation. No talk, no truth, no lie. Whatever he assumed from the sequence of events is anyone's guess. He may eventually puzzle it out though, he seems the thorough sort."

"Potter will get to it." Draco appeared unshaken.

"When you say Harry will to it, you mean…"

"Memory modification." Draco paused before asking, "When did you know?"

"I think a part of me sensed something about _François_ even the first time I met him, but I was in denial. When you told me I could trust François, I was more than suspicious, you don't even trust Harry with my safety. When you Portkeyed me into the Ministry and bound me to the chair, I was certain. That was sloppy, especially for you."

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "I wasn't trying to hide anything from you. I am under oath not to divulge the nature of my role, but if someone guesses, that is oversight, not felony."

Hermione's bones felt like they would shatter from the day's physical and emotional demands. It was finally out in the open, Draco Malfoy's big secret.

_Well, one of his secrets anyway._

Hermione had no doubt that he had other skeletons stuffed in darker, scarier closets. Her head fell against the back of the sofa. She saw soot particles being carried up and around in the temporary air currents.

"You have been a Hit-Wizard all these years?"

To her disbelief, Draco shrugged. Just _shrugged_.

"I thought I was your closest friend. That I understood you." Hermione grimaced. "I have been sleeping with an assassin. Have I shown you any Bond movies yet?" Hermione inclined her head to observe him, "Somehow, the girls always end up dead or worse."

Draco took in a quick breath, almost as if he was about to launch into a defensive monologue, but he only let the breath out slowly and continued to stare at her stonily.

Hermione pushed herself off the couch to get up slowly.

"I don't know how I feel about this, Draco. This is a little too much to take in. I can't do this right now, I have vampire remains all over me, even in my mouth. I need some time and space to sort through this."

Draco eyed her unsympathetically as Hermione made her way to the stairs. Without turning to face him, Hermione paused at the landing. "You can shower in the guest room if you like."

Once again, Draco did not respond, though this time Hermione hadn't waited. She knew by the unfathomable glassiness of his eyes that he was livid. Even if Hermione hadn't signed up for _Reading Draco's Eyes for Beginners_, his lack of contribution to the conversation was a dead give-away that he was taking her return to Vampire HQ rather badly. After all, he had forbidden it.

Draco had a volatile temper, quick to flare, but Hermione had seen it allayed just as swiftly. Draco was too rational to stay angry with her for too long. Mercury would drop soon enough. Her most sensible recourse for now was to give him some time and space, so she had claimed it for herself.

Hermione entered her bathroom and disrobed, throwing her charred garments in the trash. She never wanted to see those clothes again. The hot shower soothed her as it cleansed away the blood, sweat and stench of battle. Upon carefully drying herself, Hermione applied the ointment Healer Choi had given for the lacerations on her side. In the cabinet above her sink, she found the analgesic salve that Draco swore by.

_Quidditch injuries, my foot!_ She shook her head in disbelief.

Liberally applying the odorous ointment, she noticed that the soreness started to lift almost immediately.

_He is right, it is a good recipe._

Wrapped in Draco's robe, Hermione walked out barefoot, only to stop short as she saw the chaos in her bedroom. Draco had removed his clothes from closets and drawers and a pile of assorted belongings sat tauntingly on the bed. Hermione felt herself go pale and her breath shorten.

Warily, she asked, "Draco, what are you doing?"

"That should be obvious, I'm leaving."

"Leaving?" she mumbled unintelligently, unsure how to process the crushing cacophony of thoughts and emotions that assailed her.

Dissonant clunks and thuds reverberated heavily as Draco continued to dump his belongings into a bag he had transfigured from a sock.

"Why?" Hermione whispered.

Draco slammed one of the drawers shut, but there were no inflections of sentiment in his tone when he spoke. He could have been dismissing his Quidditch rivals, a Malfoy employee or a professor at Hogwarts.

"I asked you to avoid danger. I told you to stay away. You heeded neither request, nor demand. I do not tolerate disrespect."

Hermione bristled as her indignation eclipsed disbelief. For _this_? He was leaving her for this?

"Draco stop being so chauvinistic! You… my friends were fighting against a psychotic vampire coven. I wasn't going to let you go in unaccompanied, or desert my colleagues in a fight I should have been leading! I don't understand why you are so upset. I care about your safety as much as you care about mine, and _you_ went in!"

"That is different," Draco sneered.

"Why, because I am a woman? You know I am smarter than most men. Why stop me? I was doing my job, just as you were doing yours!"

"The difference, Granger, is that I have been a... who I have, for over five years. I have been meticulously trained in and against the Dark Arts. Saint Potter proselytised me right after we completed that last year at school. Said they needed my_insight_ into the Death Eater mind. 'Muggle-borns like Hermione are still in danger,' he said. Why do you think Potter knows so much about me? He's been my bloody handler for five years!" Draco exhaled deeply in frustration and his hand went up to pass through his unkempt hair. His tone gentled somewhat, "Quidditch was a front. The facade of questionable business practices got me into circles where a British Auror wouldn't be welcome. That interrogation with the Italian authorities? Well, never mind that… let's just say that the Death Eater diplomat didn't exactly fall off the balcony."

Hermione flinched, shooting up from her chair and taking a few restless steps away, before turning to pace fretfully.

Draco continued blandly, "As I mentioned, I can take care of myself. My training imbues in me the ability to make ruthless decisions instantly. Can you say the same for yourself? I saw you parry around Esway for an inordinate amount of time. You were not ready to stake that bastard, even after everything you knew. He almost had you! If I had failed to watch over you, you would be dead. Who knows, if you hadn't wasted the time with Esway, maybe you could have staked the vampire that killed poor Veronica Andrews. Do you know she had two children? A three year old son and an year-old daughter."

Hermione flinched with guilt. Veronica had been one of the two Aurors they had lost today. She felt Draco's accusation leave a trail of acid down her throat.

"Comprehend the gravity of that, Granger, and understand this: your presence was a distraction for me. A liability. You endangered me. Your mulishness could have got us both killed."

"That is not fair!" Hermione announced vehemently.

"It is the truth." Draco intoned.

"The truth?" Hermione laughed involuntarily. "Yes, Draco, let's talk about the truth, since you are such a paragon of honesty!"

Hermione noticed the almost imperceptible stiffening of his already squared shoulders before continuing.

"You kill people for a living. You undertake that kind of jeopardy every time you go on a _Quidditch_ tour. You confessed to a _façade of questionable practices_. Is that the legacy you want leave our child? For that matter, how dare you plan to father my child, hiding the pertinent fact that you could _die_ any given day? How could you be so irresponsible about my future? How could you inflict that kind of instability onto our child?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Easily rectified, if you could just shut it and let me pack."

Hermione's threw her hands up in frustration. "Yes, leave, why don't you? You're so good at it, running at the first sight of trouble. Is that because of your commitment-issues, or it is just chronic indecisiveness? Can't make up your mind about anything, can you?"

Hermione balanced her hands up and down, mimicking a weighing scale. "Be a Death Eater or not? Pursue a meaningful relationship or play the field? Stay or go? So you do both, without sparing a thought to how it affects the people around you!"

Draco's expression had returned to the one she was familiar with from their Hogwarts days. Scornful dismissal.

"You know what, Granger? I do believe I am done trying to gain your approval. Nothing I do is ever good enough for you," Draco spat. "_Draco, help us kill Voldemort and fight your family and friends. Draco, how can you kill Death Eaters without my permission? _It is not just those issues though, is it? It is practically everything! _Draco, you didn't shelve the grocery in alphabetical order, how irresponsible. Draco, let us immobilize you with a body-bind curse, you need the extra stability. Morgana flay us if we forget to take life seriously enough for a moment. Draco, I came up with the perfect bonding exercise, let us smother each other with well-meaning advice that no one wants to hear. Draco, let's vacim the carpet, our life isn't nearly dreary enough!_"

Hermione felt hers knees go weak so she seated herself awkwardly on her bed. He felt smothered, he found her dreary. Despondency hit her like a speeding truck.

"Vacuum, " she muttered bleakly.

"What?" Draco looked at her incredulously.

"It's vacuum, not vacim," Hermione offered vaguely, staring out the window, drawing her knees up closer to her chest.

Draco laughed harshly, derision evident in the hard shape of his raised eyebrow. "Out of everything I said, is that all you heard? You know, Hermione, you didn't need the Portkey to get the Aurors in. You could have just nagged the Vampire coven to death."

Hermione lifted her head to meet his thunderstorm eyes. "You are leaving because you are bored, smothered" she stated dully. "You just needed an excuse."

Draco shook his head once, slowly. His dangerously soft voice indicated at reined-in fury. "No, Hermione, you do _not _get to turn this around on me. We are breaking up because of your actions. All you had to do was stay tied to a chair in the Ministry. You could have blamed it on me. But it is impossible for you to give up control, isn't it? You cannot abide by a decision I make for us, not once."

Hermione's chin went up in the air, "Malfoy, you may have grown up seeing your mother mindlessly abide by your father's rules, but times have changed. You cannot lead me around!" she retorted defiantly.

A vein throbbed in Draco's temple, and his nostrils flared. "Before you deem it appropriate to bring a bloke's mother into a disagreement, remember that there is usually only one of those, typically not substitutable. Paramours, however, are replaceable. Let me assure you, my mother is not one to be led around. She chose to respect my father's wishes. She compromised her ego at times, for the sake of their relationship. I recognise now that you are incapable of that."

Hermione looked out the window again. She had regretted the mention of his mother the moment it had escaped her lips and had meant to apologise, but maybe it was for the best. At long last, she understood what she meant to Draco.

_Paramour. His keep._

Hermione was still gazing vacantly out the window as Draco continued his diatribe. "You flaunt a blatant disregard for my wishes. Clearly, we did not reflect on things well enough. This endeavour has been one disaster after another. That we are not equipped to raise a child together is evident, I am glad Blueberry was smart enough to realise it."

Hermione gasped. It felt like a Cruciatus was shredding her heart from inside out. Where she could have forgiven the vitriol, this last assertion put her in a distinct plane, an impenetrable cocoon. She felt all her connection, all her love, smashed to smithereens. Eight years of devotion evaporated, razed in moments of uninhibited speech. No, the Draco she loved could never have been this cruel. But then, did she know him at all? Her wasted youth, passed opportunities at other relationships, all over a chimera, an illusion that Draco Malfoy had so skilfully created for the world.

At some basic level, Hermione acknowledged that she was swinging wildly between the classic symptoms of shock, denial and anger, but could not extricate herself from the torrid patterns of grief.

"All these years, I thought you were this misunderstood boy, this mythical man, but you were neither." Hermione scoffed, "Shows how little I knew. It seems I knew nothing at all. I turned into one of your spineless floozies." Her sentence trailed away morosely before she drew strength from her anger again. "Worse than star-struck teenagers who spend hours gazing at two-dimensional posters of Draco Malfoy, the two dimensional Quidditch star." Hermione winced. "I was in love with a fucking poster!"

Hermione threw her head into her hands. She visualised the citadel she had dared to climb down and out of; she saw it rise and tower around her again. She was safe again. Guarded. Raising her head, she was ready to face him. No one could touch her here, definitely not the false remorse on Draco's face.

"I am sorry Mi, I did not mean that." Draco apologised softly, "You know that." He took a step forward.

"Get out."

"Granger?"

"Leave. You are not welcome back. Don't worry, if you leave any of your precious belongings behind, I'll Floo them to you."

"Hermione…"

"You were right, Malfoy. I'm glad we are finally facing reality. Together, we would make dismal parents. Irreconcilable differences."

Draco's stood reticent, watchful.

Hermione tucked her chin behind her knee and stared at the door. What was left to say?

Hermione couldn't tell him his words had ripped her insides apart. She couldn't tell him he had spoilt her for any other man. She couldn't tell him about her pregnancy. That would be tantamount to begging him to stay. Hermione had vowed to never fall that low. She just hadn't known the fallout would render everything she knew null, her familiar existence set ablaze, consumed, turned acrid.

Draco zipped his bag within one dismissive jerk. Hermione felt an icy chill pervade her spine as their eyes met a last time. She sank into the desolate arctic of the lifeless grey. Frozen on the bed, she watched him pick up his bag and leave her room. Her flat. Her life. Again.

Hermione's forehead fell onto her raised knees. She didn't have any tears. Debilitating depression would come later. For now, there was just a batter ram intent on shattering her chest.

For over half an hour, Hermione sat thus on her bed, not moving, not crying, barely breathing, ruminating over the events of the morning, wondering what she could have done differently. She would have still gone after him in battle. Ambivalent about the violence, she would have still hoped to avoid slaying Esway, if at all possible. Even knowing about the pregnancy, she would still have jumped instinctively to shield Draco from Fargo's curse. So things could not have gone much differently there, and everyone who knew her would expect little else.

To indulge her melancholy, Hermione also considered alternative motivations for Draco's departure. Harry's words came to mind- they had been sitting outside Ashram, in the snow, when Harry had shared the anecdote about an old girlfriend proclaiming her love for Draco. Draco had abandoned the relationship immediately, feeling claustrophobic. Had that been the case? They had deviated from the equilibrium of his previous liaisons. The terms had been _no-strings attached, no co-dependency, no claims to affection_. Love had never been part of the indenture. She had violated the terms so outlandishly.

Hermione walked over to her closet to retrieve the hidden bottle of the Tree-potion and downed the contents. Synthetic calm suffused her senses, anaesthetising her screaming nerves. Feeling compelled to clean house, Hermione spent the next hour attacking every reminder of Draco. She knew it would be wiser to remove them now, under the influence of the calming draught.

She started with her bedroom, a photograph of them at Ron's wedding on her bedside table, some loose change and a book on his. The silk sheets, the green kimono, ticket stubs from a play, his one sock under the bed, the stuffed unicorn from the fair, the layered curtains, the greyscape painting from France. He had left behind so much. Hadn't taken nearly enough.

Conjuring a box, she threw in his belongings and all his gifts. _To return._

On her way out, Hermione waved a hand to return the wall colour to the insipid beige of before.

The study contained some of his embossed stationary and his travelling cloak, draped carelessly over the chair, just waiting to be picked up on the next trip out.

The kitchen downstairs revealed leftovers from the food Misty had brought them. _To throw. _A memo on the fridge reminded her to collect his custom-ordered dragon–hide gloves from Diagon Alley._To Flagrate._

The sitting room revealed his French newspaper on the coffee table, and his Quidditch cup from Australia, in the showcase that lit up.

No, he hadn't taken nearly enough.

Reluctantly, she took off the kunzite pendant that had not left her heart for several months now, except to be recharged. It felt as if it were being severed from her chest. Gently, she laid it on top of everything else to be returned to him, before determinedly sealing the box.

In her benumbed state, Hermione dabbled with the idea of Obliviating herself of the last year. Everything would be placid. She suppressed the urge. Perhaps, as an old maid, she would want to remember the _prime_ of her life. Perhaps, their child would demand some validation for his creation.

Hermione felt an odd thud and ache in her chest. The trinkets from hell were undoing the influence of the potion. Or maybe, the potion was undoing the stages of grief, finally allowing her to see past the shock, denial and anger to admit her tragic truth. Despite the death of their relationship, her love for Draco had not died.

Panic rose with bile. Her baby needed its father. _She_ needed its father.

Hadn't that been Draco? The romantic weekend in France, the brazen claiming at Ron's wedding and the protective thoughtfulness when she was pregnant? He did care about her, no matter their violent outbursts. He could not have meant what he said about Blueberry. He had wept for their baby. He had known Hermione's weakness and attacked it expertly, but it was solely to hurt her the best he knew how. Wasn't it? She had been angry too. She had told him not to come back.

_He usually comes back._

_Will he come back?_

Hermione snorted derisively at her own psyche's pathetic attempts at bargaining.

She whistled for Zephyrus and felt her heart constrict painfully as she saw him land gracefully next to her. Of all gifts, she would miss him the most. Petting the owl, she gave him a note to take to Healer Tara, requesting an appointment for the next morning.

Hermione muttered a spell to clean the sofas in her living room and lay down wearily on the couch in front of her fireplace. She slept there all night, in front of a fire that didn't burn.

Morning woke her to the cacophonic cawing of crows. Somehow, it was fitting that the sweeter bird songs were not to be heard. Uncertainty about her future had lined her sleep with nightmares.

In theory at least, Hermione knew what she was to do next, having planned for it from the start. Hermione Granger always had a plan 'B'.

* * *

AN: Right, now before you flame me, let me tell you that this break-up has been planned since the BEGINNING. So no, I am not trying to extend the plot uselessly. Ask Dixie, she knows! Honestly? My poor hubbie suffered through days of 'bad' moods while I was writing this miserable chapter. Not to worry, we're on track.


	40. Big Girls Don't Cry & Preview

~ AN: To all the amazing **reviewers**, for the heart-warming responses to the last chapter: You make me so happy! Thank you, thank you, thank you! It's not just that you make me happy, though. Once the beta'ing is done, my pre-updating ritual includes going through and replying to all the reviews from the previous chapter. Many last-minute additions are made because of your thoughts, and they **improve my following chapter by heaps**. So, yeah, Good Job! :)

Recent reviewers who made my world glow with rainbow magic: **Ceylon (3), kavii, serena2010, steff.c, blueskyshymoon-olgameisterfunk, scarlettcat, The nameless soul, Liara, IGOTEAMEDWARD, marchygirl818, kean-srhuin, Jade2099, Astrea66, xxDracoDragonxx, Coeur de l'amour, margaritama, Lily, mentarisenja, JillianUnleashed, Gwen, flying vampire monk, Pixie-Fate, JC1988, evenstar101, AliasFan4Lyfe, Italian Rose, ren-san, aureliasilver, HarryPGinnyW4eva, Akaalias, AmITheAngel, ebbe04, alina290, dg.17, mw87, Super-girl-straight-from-hell, Sana, Slythindor Complex, DaOnLeeSam, nathy7, brandonlov, tfobmv18, tofupanda, Liz16, .7, Keither Serenity, Rats, anon and Malechi**

**~ To the super-sharp MW87**, who generously agreed to **beta** another chapter for me: You are bloody brilliant, aren't you? You are! One day? Such awesome beta'ing! How do you do it?

This exceptional writer **corrected infinite errors and weaknesses, patiently teaching me**_**why**_**they were considered errors in the first place**! Not directly, for she is far too kind, but she found fixed so many issues that it made me realise **I need to revise grammar rules. I want to pick up a good guide, any suggestions?** I'm serious.

~ I've made changes to the chapter after the beta'ing so all mistakes are MINE.

~ Right, I know I have been updating rather slowly (but surely!), making it easy to forget the itsy-bitsy clues hidden in the masses of chapters beforehand. The following two excerpts are yet more 'odd facts to be coalesced', that I am including for your convenience. Well, mine too. Now I don't have to explain the whole thing! Hey, why work hard when you can work smart?

* * *

_**Previously on Heir Brained:**_(From Ch. 31, slightly abridged.)

"How in Merlin's name did that crow get there? Why couldn't it fly the usual route via the office?" Alisha tried to take the mail from the crow but was deterred by a furious flapping of wings, a warning nip from a very sharp beak and the crow's cry of protest.

"No" The raven scolded.

Alisha withdrew hastily, astounded by the talking bird. The crow flew to Hrmione's desk and lifted its talon for Hermione. Having delivered the parcel, the raven flew out the window.

Alisha's curiosity was blatant, "Err… boss? What was the crow doing in your office? How did it talk?"

Hermione kept the parcel in a drawer. "That was a raven, Alisha. Ravens can imitate sounds they hear, and can thus be taught to talk."

"Who uses a raven, Boss? Who was that parcel from?" One of Alisha's hands rested on her hip, the other moved to push her spectacles back.

Hermione shook her head sadly; she had wanted to avoid this sort of situation. "Someone who knows that owls are conspicuous in day time. Someone smart enough to train a raven."

Hermione cared deeply for the girl, but the gossip queen on their floor had no qualms encroaching other people's privacy. As Alisha launched into another barrage of questions, Hermione reluctantly did what she had to. An _Obliviate_ and a _Mobilicorpus_later, Alisha was back at her own desk. When the girl came to in a few minutes, she would think she had fallen asleep there. Hermione felt some remorse, but this was important, and she _had_asked Alisha to leave.

Hermione locked the door of her cabin, and pricked her finger with a grimace. The large envelope's seal required her blood to confirm the receiver's identity. As a drop of blood landed on the yellow seal, the parcel fell open and a note floated out.

_The debt is paid._

Hermione nodded. "That it is."

She carefully examined and locked the contents of the parcel in a box that she warded with her considerable skills, finally placing it in her safe.

**ooo**

**(From Ch. 35)**

Regardless of the form of procurement of knowledge, and the unmerited glory accredited to his own self, the facts in Lockhart's books were sound. The information on vampires reported in _Voyages_was based on the stolen diary of a teenaged Muggle girl near Seattle, who had fallen in love with a 'vegetarian' vampire. That teenager, now a vampire herself, was a celebrity in magical United States, deeply respected for her work. She had helped bring accord between vampire clans and traditionally adversarial werewolf tribes; she had even campaigned for improved rights for werewolves in America. This was a cause close to Hermione's heart. Unlike her many predecessors, Hermione had actively sought to regulate werewolf concerns. She had loathed the bureaucratic oversight of decades past when werewolves were unduly shunted between departments on classification semantics, from 'Beasts' to 'Beings' to 'Magical Creatures'. Hermione had reversed the discriminatory anti-werewolf legislation that Dolores Umbridge had championed in her glory days; The legislation had made it near impossible for werewolves to gain respectable employment.

_That horrid Umbridge stole futures away from so many. If she hadn't been so prejudiced, poor Professor Lupin and Vrede could have had decent lives!_

Dingane Vrede was a tall, skinny man of South African descent and indeterminate age. A Muggle, he had been thrown into the magical world after being bitten by a werewolf while he was backpacking across Europe. His lycanthropy and lack of magic had precluded him from assimilating into both the Muggle and wizarding worlds. A survivor, he had carved out a niche for himself in the nebulous, uncharted, ill regulated and mostly illicit alleys between the two. Hermione had learnt of him after becoming the head of DRMC, and been able to empathise with his situation better for having known Remus Lupin. Allegations of misconduct against Vrede included the smuggling of goods between the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. Charges were dropped after Hermione found little proof of the items being any more pernicious than glowing protection trinkets for children, mild 'performance potions' for older men, and, the most noxious of all, paraben saturated cosmeceuticals for women. Strictly speaking, the act was illegal, but Hermione had learned to see many shades greys during the war. In the large scheme of things, an age-defying Co Q10 cream was not enough to ruin an already bereft life.

* * *

**ooo**

* * *

**BIG GIRLS DON'T CRY**

"Cover your bases!"

It was a fact less known, that during her preparatory school years, Hermione Granger could have been observed participating in Muggle sports. Twice a week she'd don her uniform of blue shorts, knee-high stockings and a striped jersey emblazoned with her school's crest. Agreed, Physical Training had been mandatory and the participation- reluctant at best. Still, since it had not involved flying, it had not been as arduous an undertaking. Embarrassing? Sometimes. Terrifying? No.

Soccer, field hockey, cricket and lacrosse - Hermione had dabbled at learning the more popular sports amongst her peers, but it was while playing softball that a memorable incident had left an indelible impression. Hermione could still hear the raspy voice of the overweight, middle-aged coach shouting, "Cover your bases!"

On a cold, rainy day when her team members had not been responsible enough to pay adequate attention to doing just that, they had lost a game. Ever avid, the young Miss Granger had learnt a lesson in an unexpected laboratory. With time, she had realised the value of extending the lesson to all aspects of her life.

In recent months, grim acceptance had forced Hermione's hand; the uncertain nature of her future screamed the need to cover all bases. When pregnant with Blueberry, Hermione had prepared for the eventuality that Draco, always restless, might abandon ship on a whim. On the other hand, Draco had also been right in his argument with Harry, all those months ago: if Blueberry had been born a squib, Hermione would have left the Wizarding world. Her child would not grow up as a lesser amongst wizards, but with head held high amongst equals. Even with a magically imbued child, Hermione had to account for the probability that things might turn sour with Draco, leading to a bitter custody battle. For all its charms, the Wizarding world was archaically patriarchal. For all these reasons and more, Hermione had set things into motion for a clandestine relocation to the Muggle world.

Now, Hermione knew if Draco found about the baby, as he would eventually, they'd both be trapped. Her being out of the picture would give him his precious freedom. He could blame her for running all he wanted, but being unable to find her would be all the excuse he needed to pick up his life where he'd left it last year. And she needed to get away from the angst that he brought into her life, from the barbed reminder of his presence, from the inevitable mention of him. However unexpected the reasons for absconding, she had been prepared for the scenario for a long time now.

A brisk shower and some cereal provided Hermione with the clarity of mind and energy to organise her long day. Tara's owl flew in just as Hermione finished cleaning out her kitchen. The note he carried informed her that the healer could see her at 11:00 a.m. Since it was past seven, that didn't leave her with much time, but fortunately she had arrangements in place. Setting up multifarious layers of wards in and around her home scarcely took five minutes. Blocking the Floo, five seconds. Packing up her life took a few hours. Getting used to her new life? That would require a bit more.

Hermione checked her list:

E-Ticket X  
Activate automated bill paying through online banking X  
Shrink and pack Essentials required for the next few months X  
Conceal trunk in travel bag to bypass security X  
Book, water bottle and a healthy snack in travel bag X  
Cash to last a month X  
Investments set up for later X  
Settle house for long absence X  
Travel documents _

_Hmm, do I have time?_

A glance at the clock revealed it to be 10:45 A.M.

_Later, then._

Temporarily opening her Floo to the network, Hermione arrived at her healer's home-clinic. Tara was chatting softly with another patient, so Hermione clasped her fidgeting hands and took a seat in the waiting lounge. The surprised silence indicated that the close-to-term young woman had recognised the celebrity in the room. Healer Tara wished her patient goodbye and turned to greet Hermione whilst the woman was still in earshot.

"Hello Hermione, thanks for meeting me here. I can't wait to try that new café you've been raving about. I'll be ready to leave shortly. Mind a trip to Diagon Alley later? I just have to see you try that orange robe!"

As the fire in the Floo swallowed her patient, Tara turned to Hermione with an apologetic smile. "I cannot really accompany you for lunch. My daughter has a fever, so she is at home today. However, there is a purple and orange robe that I saw in a boutique that will look dashing on you. I'll write down the shop's name for you, if you like. The designer there is quite unique, I get most of my clothes from her."

Hermione tried not to let her gaze shift to Tara's turquoise, fuchsia and sunshine-yellow floral garments, she truly did. Alas, it couldn't be helped. With reluctant fascination, transfixed eyes followed the hummingbird pattern that 'flew' from flower to flower on Tara's robes.

Drawing her gaze away, Hermione thanked her healer, more for providing the false alibi for her visit than for the fashion assistance.

"How can I help you today?" Tara asked pleasantly.

Standing up jerkily, Hermione gave in to nervous babbling, "TheMinistryhealer toldmeIam pregnant. Needto confirmit. ButIgotinto afightwiththevampires andmayhave hurt the baby!" she ended fretfully.

No stranger to the fretful babbling of soon-to-be-mummies, the unruffled healer guided Hermione into the examination room. After a series of diagnostic tests, Tara merrily announced, "Congratulations! You _are_ pregnant, and your baby seems wholly healthy. If anything, I perceive an exceptionally strong magical essence for a two-week old embryo. If I didn't know any better, I would think this baby is a month old already. Good job!"

Tara patted Hermione's back like a proud parent. "Do try to breathe, won't you? The baby needs oxygen, and you do too. And people wonder why pregnant women faint." Tara laughed at her joke, the melodic peal reminiscent of soothing wind chimes.

Allowing herself the breath she had been holding, Hermione slumped gratefully back against the reclining bed. A surge of happiness infused her being.

_I am pregnant! The baby is strong!_

She couldn't help the inner glow that lifted her soul and brightened her eyes.

Still smiling, Tara started to fill in her chart, humming an unrecognisable tune. Hermione brought forward her hand to clasp the healer's.

"Tara, what should I do, what should I avoid? How do I make sure I take care of this baby?"

Tara kept her clipboard down. "Now, now, Hermione, you must not think that the last time was because something you did or didn't do. You took the best care you knew how. However, this time, let us err on the side of caution. Stay at home for a few weeks, rest off the injuries and fatigue from yesterday. Remember: no getting attacked, lifting heavy weights, massages, sauna, hot baths, potion-making, flying, Apparating, unapproved potions, MSG, or pedicures during the first trimester. I would be much happier if you reduced your workload. Don't take on stress if you can avoid it. You write for the Daily Prophet from home, right? See if you can take a hiatus from your Ministry job. It's not as if you or Draco need the extra money. Focus on yourselves for a bit."

Hermione swallowed and got off the bed. Tara tilted her head to one side and waved a copy of her chart at Hermione. "Do you want to take this to Draco yourself, or do you want me to owl it to him?"

"What?" Hermione squealed.

Tara inclined her head sideways and looked down at her chart, then back at Hermione. "The copy of today's report."

Tara studied the sharp witch's blank eyes and caught on. "You didn't know? Draco wants me to send him reports on each visit."

Hermione reached behind her to find the support of the bed and made to sit down awkwardly.

"How does he know?" she croaked.

The healer's head angled abruptly towards the other side, reminding Hermione of a curious puppy analysing a new sound.

"He doesn't know?" Tara asked, nervously biting the wrong tip of her quill, getting ink all over her lips.

As Tara worked on wiping herself, Hermione shook her head vehemently.

"No, and he is not to be told!" she stated emphatically.

Tara ceased scrubbing her lips with her lemon yellow handkerchief.

"Hmm, that presents an issue."

_Deep breaths, Granger, deep breaths. You can't afford to faint in the clinic. Tara would have no choice but to call… him!_

"What issue?" she asked softly.

The far corner of the examination room was set up as an office. Motioning for Hermione to take a seat, Tara walked behind her cluttered desk. Clicking noises from the large cabinet behind Tara indicated it was being unlocked. A drawer flew open and a voluminous leather-bound folder flew out, landing on the desk with a loud thud.

"The confidentiality agreement that Draco made me sign included a number of stipulations. About three hundred, actually." Tara chuckled, delighted about sharing, what she obviously thought of as an amusing anecdote. "I am bound to send him reports of every appointment with you, whether he is in attendance or not."

Hermione stared at the intimidating file and blanched. "But these must be null and void now, since Blueberry…" she trailed off.

Tara opened the volume, and flipped through some dog-eared pages. A short nail glided down a long page, pausing to point at a highlighted part. "There, see, I thought I so. It applies for all future children as well."

_Future children?_

Hermione grabbed the weighty binder incredulously and skimmed through the contract. Some parts were underlined-

_'Healer consents to attend paediatric conferences, subscribe to magical and muggle healing journals and to actively stay abreast of advancements in the field. The receipts can be saved and submitted after the safe delivery of a healthy child.'_

Brightly coloured inks had contributed doodles of smiley faces, flowers, rainbows and little happy bunnies along the margins of several pages. Hermione presumed that Draco's lawyer had not included the artwork.

Flipping to the last page, the final term caught her eye, maybe because it was highlighted in fluorescent yellow-

_'Healer acknowledges that she will harm or swap the Malfoy offspring at pain of death.'_

The page was littered with cheerful doodles of dolphins, pygmy puffs and hippogriffs.

"You read this _whole_thing? You _signed_this contract?" Hermione shook her head, her tone coated with part disgust, part disbelief.

Tara rested her pointed chin on her delicate, competent hands and nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes. It swings between being depressing, outrageous and droll. It was a challenge to make it through the first read, but then it grew on me. I read it sometimes to my three-year-old daughter too, she giggles with it. I think it's all the big words in here, they are tongue twisters for my Ara."

Hermione rested her elbows on the wooden desk, and her head in her hands. She felt like throwing up. It was too soon for nausea to assail her, so this must be psychological.

"Tara, he can't know! Please, Tara, you can_not_ tell him!" Hermione pleaded with her healer, unable to hide the panic she was starting to feel.

Genuine concern filled Tara's eyes. "Hermione, I wish I could help you, but if this child is Draco's then I am compelled to follow the dictates of this agreement," Tara offered with a dose of sympathy.

If Draco found out now, his skewed Malfoy moralities would assume control and compel him to play the duty-bound father he didn't wish to be. Hermione had lost much to Draco, but she retained her pride. He would not resent her baby. He would certainly not get the opportunity to take her baby away.

Tara noticed the sweat breaking out on Hermione's ashen face and ventured softly, "Unless of course, you tell me the child may not be Draco's, then I will have to respect your privacy."

The hope that burned in Hermione's chest must have found representation on her face, because Tara seemed to brighten up too.

"If you tell me there is a chance that this is not Draco's baby, I shall be free of all the conditions of this contract," Tara stated triumphantly.

Relief is palpable thing, it slows the heart, evens the breath, sedates the troll in the stomach.

Deadpan, Hermione stated clearly, "Tara, this child may not be Draco's, the dates don't add up. I am leaving town to be with the baby's Muggle father. I will not see you again for a while. What potions should I take with me, and how can I take care of this pregnancy in the Muggle world?"

While Tara wrote out a long list of potions with indications and contraindications, Hermione recognised the hint of guilt peeking out from the darker recesses of her mind. She squashed the traitorous emotion down, armed with the single-minded focus that anger yielded. Last night, Draco had made it clear that he didn't want a child, not with her at least. She didn't owe him anything. After the things he had said, if that shallow, negative, weak-willed ferret got cheated out of their child's presence, well, she could live with it.

Tara packed the potion vials in a sectioned medical kit and included several books from her shelves. She laid a reassuring hand on Hermione's. "Hermione, you know you are welcome to see me anytime. You don't need to owl me for an appointment. If you ever feel the slightest bit ill, don't hesitate to come in, no matter what hour. Your visits will remain confidential."

Hermione nodded her gratitude, and hugged the healer. As they parted and headed towards the Floo, Tara's eyes turned thoughtful. "It is a pity that things did not work out between Draco and you. He will make a good father, you know." Tara touched Hermione's arm gently.

Hermione nodded once. Yes, Draco would have made a brilliant father to Blueberry. She'd seen that in every action, every word, every caring gesture.

_Clap that can of worms shut, Granger!__He is gone and Blueberry didn't come. But this baby? This baby will come; this baby will play in my arms, will feed from my breast. This baby I will protect, no matter what. And we__will be fine. Without_ _him_.

After a brief goodbye, Hermione Flooed back home. She packed the medical supplies in her travel bag and Flooed to the Ministry. Walking through the crowded halls, her stride was brisk, her eyes stayed straight, and her demeanour remained austere. Self-preservation instincts dissuaded the sensible from approaching. Just as she turned a corner, a blond head in the crowd ahead caught her eye. Involuntarily, she stepped back, grimacing as the wizard walking behind cursed and bumped her leg with the heavy cauldron he carried. She apologised, let him pass and peeked around the corner again. It wasn't Draco, but for a moment there, her heart had accelerated unreasonably.

In her office, her energetic assistant was assiduously gossiping with the young girl hauling the sandwich cart. Alisha quieted in surprise, which had to be a first. It only lasted a second, though. Any more would have been unreasonable to expect.

"Boss? What are you doing here? You are supposed to be home, resting!" Alisha protested affectionately.

Yesterday's altercation with the vampires had made headlines across the Wizarding world. As was often the case, the facts were buried deep under the press briefings, and Hermione had barely managed to force herself to read the account of the damage and loss. Once again, the printed word had fallen short of the painful truth.

Greeting the two girls affably, Hermione walked past them and locked herself in her private quarters. It took less than an hour to clear the office of sensitive information and personal effects that couldn't be left behind for her successor. When all was ready, she used a Ministry memo plane to send in her resignation to Minister Shacklebolt, apologizing for the lack of notice. She sent another memo plane, this one to Harry, informing him that she was leaving for a long vacation. He would receive it when he came back in to his office, hopefully not before tomorrow.

Hermione performed the series of complex spells to open her safe. Lifting the additional wards off a box, she retrieved a yellow manila envelope and rechecked the documents therein. The note had to be Flagrated. She couldn't risk it being traced back to Vrede. He had more than paid off any debt he felt he owed her.

Although Hermione didn't deal out favours for the sake of accruing credit, she knew when, and _who_, to ask for resources that were out of her reach. Dingane Vrede, the Muggle-turned-Werewolf, had a clandestine trade of smuggling harmless items between the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. To Hermione's knowledge, he did not entertain such requests on a regular basis, but he had discreetly organised a valid new Muggle identity for her, no questions asked. The documents showed an unrecognisable picture of a Hermione with short, straight black hair, green eyes, coral-painted lips and a different name.

_Knock Knock Knock KNOCK KNOCKKNOCK_

Hermione jumped with trepidation.

"Who is it?"

"Harry. Open up!"

Was that relief or disappointment? _Who were you expecting, Granger? You hopeless twit!_

"Just a minute," she shouted.

"Hermione, I am coming in, in three seconds. One."

_The man sure likes to count down._

"Two…"

_Hide the documents and look innocent._

"Three!"

_Occlumency walls. Big, strong, indestructible._

Taking a seat behind her desk in a pose of marked ease, Hermione flicked her wand to open the office door just as Harry must have hit it with a spell. The block of wood shuddered and fell off its hinges, falling flat on the floor with a resounding bang.

"What the…!" Alisha exclaimed from outside.

Hermione's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "I am not paying for that Harry, so you had better fix it. Right now."

Harry waved a careless hand to repair the door, which floated back into place. He shut it gently behind him as if afraid that it had lost its former sturdiness, which it probably had.

For years, she had kept this office immaculate and its furniture in like-new condition. _On my very last day…_ the thought was cut short as Harry waved a familiar parchment in her face.

"What's this?"

Hermione took the note from his hand and pretended to examine it.

Harry snatched it back. "You know very well what it is! You sent it to me two minutes ago! Good thing I was right next-door! Now, what brought on this sudden desire for an indefinite vacation to an unspecified location?"

"I told you in the memo, Harry."

Harry made to read the note. "Around!" he snorted, "for a while!" he scoffed.

"Around," Hermione nodded sagely, "for some time."

"Why?"

"Well, you all seem to think the job is too dangerous for me, and well, I finally agree. I've had it with the stress. I want to travel, visit the places I've always wanted to see. No expectations or demands from me. It isn't like I haven't earned a vacation, I haven't taken one in three years!"

"Is Draco going with you?" Harry sounded unsure.

"No." Hermione turned around to lock her safe.

"Is that why he's turned into a zombie?"

"Excuse me?"

"You'd think I'd be used to a cheerless, emotionally deficient Draco, but no, he bests himself every day."

Hermione opened her bag and placed the last of her papers in it; the regular, innocuous ones she did not mind Harry seeing in her possession.

"You two have a fight?" Harry hiked his hip to sit sideways on her desk.

Hermione zipped her bag shut, and got up from her chair.

Harry must have been irked by her lack of reply, but he didn't show it. "Must have been some fight. He's quitting his job and you're leaving town."

Hermione's head snapped up. "He's resigned too?"

"What do you mean he's resigned too? You've RESIGNED?" Harry leaned halfway across her desk, now clearly nettled.

"Yes, I didn't think it was fair to keep the position unattended when I don't know how long I'll be gone," Hermione placed a placating hand on his forearm.

Harry turned over his hand to hold hers. "Exactly how long will you be _gone_, Hermione?"

Sometimes there are no good answers, so Hermione chose to shrug. She'd learnt the trick from Draco. No wonder he used it so often, it was bloody convenient.

"If you won't tell me anything, how do I get in touch with you if there's an emergency?"

"Done any astral travelling lately?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Tell me which part of the world you are headed to at least, so I can calculate the difference in time zones."

"Good try, Harry, but you know as well as I do that the restrictions of space-time do not apply in that dimension. I'll have a lot of time on my vacation, so I'll meditate everyday. Just seek me, and you'll get to me. My psychic defences would never block you out."

"What did your parents say?"

"I sent them an owl, I'll call them sometimes. They're used to my long absences."

Harry came around the desk and took the bag from her hand.

"Don't go. Not like this. Things will work out. You want me to talk to him?"

Hermione smiled gently at her friend. She loved this man. If she hadn't seen him conquer a vampire rebel group yesterday, his adorable eyes would con her into thinking he was harmless as Fang, Hagrid's dog.

"No, Harry, I don't. At all. I'm not leaving because of him. We said some things I know we both regret, but that isn't the end-all of my existence. I'm leaving because I need to get away for a while. You ought to understand that better than anyone. The scurry with the vampires made me re-evaluate my priorities. For almost a decade, I've made work the most important entity in my life, and I realised it can't go on. So I am taking some me-time. You _have_ to admit that a break will be healthy for me!"

Emerald eyes, deep as the Forbidden Forest, gazed at her reflectively. "Where are you going? How long will you be gone?" he persisted.

"I would tell you, but then I'd have to Obliviate you." Hermione ruffled her friend's hair affectionately.

"Why the secrets? What are you embarrassed about? Does your itinerary include nudist beaches? Recreational drugs? Hunting?"

"Harry, please don't push me on this. If I tell anyone, I won't have the peace of mind that I need for this journey. I don't want anyone to come looking for me, Harry. Not even you."

"What happened with Draco? Do I get the right to know that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at his emotional blackmail.

"I called him rash, he called me a nag."

"You're both right, so it's a tough one to call."

"Harry!"

"What? It's true. You guys have known each other, how long now? It couldn't have come as a surprise now, could it? Is that all you fought about? That isn't so bad then." Harry nodded to himself. "You'll make up in no time. You don't have to leave for that." He raised his head in hope.

She shook hers in regret.

"Hermione, don't take this the wrong way, but I think you are over-analysing this. You have to admit you have the tendency to over-react. A fight with Draco and you are ready to go into hiding? It doesn't make sense," Harry contended. "It is impossible to have a long-term relationship without fights. When you care about someone, you don't just give up on the relationship! You compromise, make amends."

"You should tell him that, since he was the one to give up on us." Hermione sighed. "By that logic, I can conclude once again, that he doesn't care."

"You know he cares about you," Harry replied, perplexed. "Even I know he cares about you!"

"Harry, we both read him wrong. He cares about me as an old friend, if that, and not enough."

Harry let out an exasperated groan. "Not true. He got you a ring."

Hermione's head snapped up. "What ring?"

His face red, Harry looked extremely discomfited. "Uh, the one he turned into a Portkey?"

"Grasping at straws, Harry? He got me a Portkey that was coincidentally a ring."

"But a ring, nevertheless. It could have been a pen, a pendant, earrings, anything. But it was a ring. Think about it! Don't you think that was telling?"

"No, Harry, I don't. Besides, I am not leaving because of him. I am leaving because I have had it with the multiple standards of the Wizarding world. I just need life to be simple for a while. It can't ever be simple here, not for me. Think of it as much needed respite. When I feel ready, I'll come back."

When Harry opened his mouth to object, she interjected, "And there's nothing you can say to change my mind!"

Harry closed his mouth, eventually. Then he opened it to start again, so Hermione pinched his lips shut with her talented opposable thumb. "One more word, Harry Potter, and I'll block your annoying presence from my Astral world. Now, you're going to give me a hug and wish me luck, and then you will quietly walk me to the door. You will not utter a word about this to anyone, at least till tomorrow. And then, too, you will keep your explanations brief. I'll know who to blame if Shacklebolt hears that I resigned without due notice, because of a row of all things! And you don't want me annoyed with you, do you?"

Harry shook his head mutely, his lips bunched in a scowl. "I don't like this. Not a bit. Wait till Ginny sees you again, she'll chew your ears out for leaving like this. Damn, she'll chew my ears out for letting you leave."

"Harry," Hermione slung her bag on her shoulder, "about my hug…"

Harry walked her to the Ministry Floo and kissed her affectionately on the cheek. Crushing him in another quick hug, Hermione stepped into the fire before the earnest eyes changed her mind.

Once back at her flat, she took out the documents she needed, and stashed the rest in her room upstairs. Quick spells rendered her new Muggle home and herself Unplottable, and Hermione raised the bar so that no owl would find her either. She placed her travel bag, her purse and a jacket next to her front door, and called for a taxi, leaving instructions for the driver to wait with the meter running.

Hermione petted Zephyrus tearfully and told him to fly to the owlery at Malfoy Manor. "Misty will take care of you. You'll be with Serapha. At least someone should be together."

The bird stood arrogant and adamant at her breakfast table, refusing to budge, so she picked him up carefully and nudged him out at the window's ledge, shutting the window behind him. He scratched the windowpane in disgust and flew away. When the taxi reached her door five minutes later, she waved at the driver from the window.

Only one thing left to do.

The Box. It had to be returned. The one with his belongings and the gifts she couldn't keep. She tried Apparating the box to Malfoy Manor, but the wards must have been up, because the box just shivered and shook.

_I should have just shrunk the lot and sent it with Zephyrus! You are a fool, Hermione Granger, a fool! Don't let anyone tell you otherwise!_

Disgusted with herself, she opened the Floo once more and connected it to the Manor's reception hall. Careful to poke only her head in, to prevent the detection of her pregnancy, Hermione whispered Misty's name into the empty reception hall.

The house-elf appeared instantly, with an animated exuberance that was almost painful to bear.

"Hello Miss! Miss come in? Master be back soon. Misty packed dinner but happy that Miss be here! Misty make Miss's favourite pie for dessert."

Hermione smiled sadly at the sweet elf and refused gently. "Please pass this box to- that is, pass the box on after dinner, won't you Misty? It isn't urgent."

"But Miss," Misty's ears flopped up and down fretfully, "Master Draco be upset Misty not make you stay!"

Misty put her hand into the fire to tow in her reluctant guest, but Hermione dodged the spindly fingers just in time.

"No Misty, it's fine. He doesn't want to see me right now." Noticing Misty's bewildered, overlarge eyes, she added, "We've both had very tiring days and need some rest. He'll understand why I didn't stay."

Misty twiddled her long thumbs helplessly before her ears perked up. "Ah, Master home, Master make Miss stay!" Misty disappeared with a pop and Hermione wasted no time in retracting her head, blocking her Floo again. Draco might accede to see Hermione out of some vague sense of politesse, but Hermione could not risk meeting master _or_elf.

A simple glamour charm changed her appearance instantly to match the photographs on her new identification. Grabbing her bags and jacket, Hermione ran out her front door, locked it, and wordlessly set up the final wards. This would be the last bit of magic she would use for a while, advisable if she wanted to stay untraceable. A hasty walk out of the quiet building took her to the awaiting taxi and grumbling driver. He started the car before she shut the door.

A taxi-ride to the train station, and a train-ride to the airport later, she felt the beginnings of excitement touch her heart as she lovingly caressed her tummy.

_A new adventure._

At the airline counter, a bored attendant verified her online tickets, and scanned her passport and I.D.

"One way ticket to Seattle, Ms. Lawrence? Supposed to be just as grey as here."

* * *

**UN-BETAED INTENDED PREVIEW OF NEXT CHAPTER**

**(THOUGH I'M JUST GONNA INCORPORATE IT HERE WITH THIS ONE)**

* * *

"Miss Lawrence?"

"Miss Lawrence!"

The ticketing agent's voice exhibited traces of sharpness that hadn't been conspicuous moments ago.

Hermione continued to shamelessly ignore the attendant as she unashamedly eavesdropped over the drama-filled conversation at the abutting counter.

"I'm sorry Mr Andrew, as I informed you, twice, the flight to Seattle is fully booked. The next available flight detour that could take to you to Oregon is in seven hours. With two stopovers in the US, the earliest I can get you to Portland would be day after tomorrow. I am sorry about your father's health, which is why I checked with all our partner airlines. There just isn't anything else available. Here's the best course of action I can recommend: I reserve a seat for you on that next flight out and I move you to first place on the waiting list for this flight to Seattle. That way, you can check in now and wait at the departure gate, in case a passenger misses their flight to Seattle. Would you like me to do that or would you like to take some time to think about it?" The attendant glanced meaningfully at the next person in the very long queue.

"_Miss_ _Lawrence!_" The attendant sharply tapped the cream formica counter with a bright red talon, an inch away from Hermione's hand.

Hermione's face broke into a tight-lipped smile.

"You know, about Seattle…"

And just like that, Hermione's well-made plans flew with the flight that didn't carry her to the USA. She wasn't that surprised, really. She had been debating this course of action the whole ride to the airport. It had seemed practical all laid out before, and a part of her wanted to flee as far away, as soon as possible, but the attack of pregnancy instincts challenged her decision. Staying incognito in a well-populated city in the U.S.A. would undoubtedly prove less tiresome, but reluctance regarding the long journey deterred her. Research had provided ample reassurance that the plane's cabin-pressure was maintained at safe levels for her unborn child. Concerns regarding increased exposure to solar radiation were also mostly unsubstantiated. It niggled at the back of Hermione's mind, however, that some conservative doctors recommended restricting air travel, only to the second trimester. Maybe because of the miscarriage before, it seemed more like a risk?

Hermione had repressed her reluctance, attributing it to her nerves regarding all human flight, and proceeded through the sluggish line to the check-in counter, at the neck-jerking pace of ten steps an hour. Members of the family behind her had continued to sneeze and cough, enticing anxiety about the transference of germs in the enclosed area for the daylong duration of travel. But she had squelched that fear down too.

She _had _to get away.

The tickets were already _paid_ for.

Gryffindors did _not_ chicken out.

Providence intervened just as she was about to confirm her travel itinerary with the heavy-eyed ticketing agent. The twenty-something old student entreating the agent at the next counter had caught the fickle attention of the bored passengers-to-be. A family emergency had him attempting to coerce himself a seat on the full flight to Seattle.

It was a sign from the Universe.

Hermione surrendered her seat to the grateful young man. The ticketing agent in turn, gave her an open-ended voucher for the value of her ticket.

Feeling much lighter in the chest region, Hermione located a computer with internet access, researched regions of little wizarding activity and presence within Great Britain, chose Suffolk county, rented a car and reserved the B&B for the following week. Then she drove, staying at small, clean lodgings overnight.

It was a liberating experience. She was determined to enjoy it.

So what, if some nights, a yearning for _him_ ripped her heart from inside out? Mostly, she had it under disciplined control. Mostly, she didn't even allow herself to think of him. And was it really her fault that occasionally, a dream of him crept into her unguarded subconscious? Stupid heart-wrenching dreams that left her shaken in the mornings.

No, it was just withdrawal. Her imagination was just too clever. It meant nothing. Nothing at all.

_~o~_

_The looming towers of Hogwarts behind her, Hermione ambled towards the Black lake. Classes had just finished for the day and she needed to get some air. The gnarled fingers of claustrophobia still muddied her mind, and she needed a clear mind. She _needed _something, though what it was, she couldn't quite put her finger on. The heat was so oppressive, she felt so overcrowded in her own body, under these layers and layers of clothes. Pulling off her school robe with clumsy, agitated movements, she threw it on the parched, yellowed ground with impatient vehemence. Her tie was stifling her, suffocating her, and she loosened it, opened the top button of her white school shirt, then another._

_Still too hot, still unbearable. __Her tie landed on a prickly bush as she gave into the pull that drew her to the lake. She had to go to the lake. Something was there._

_And there was. He was._

_A serenity, a calm understanding suffused her being. She was meant to be here with him. A sigh of relief eased her tensed shoulders._

_His back was to her, but there was no doubt to his identity. The platinum blonde hair, the physique of the shirtless back, the rippling muscles that she knew by sight and touch. He was in school slacks, and his school-issued shirt was on the ground, at the edge of the lake. As Hermione watched, a small wave lapped the shore and drenched his shirt. Another small wave and his school shirt was swallowed up by the water, drawn away from the shore._

_Hermione whimpered a warning, "Draco, be careful."_

_The shirt was swept away and out of sight. He would never get it back again, and somehow, that was horrible. So unfair! He deserved better! Indignation warred with empathy as Hermione watched in frustration. Draco was not paying the littlest of attention to his first line of defence against the elements, being lost to the elements. He continued to throw rocks into the lake, causing the large ripples that turned into the small waves that kept crashing at his feet, eroding the sand away from beneath him._

_"Draco, please, you don't have to do this. Please come away," she implored. He must have heard her this time, because he paused mid-throw and turned. He was as he was in school, a too-old teenager, his eyes a soul-less grey. She had never seen his eyes so empty. Devoid of every thing._

_The rock fell from his loosened grasp and cautiously, he approached her. With each step closer to her, he aged some, devastation wracking his beautiful, unmarred body, etching his face with the pain of each inflicted wound. Bruises, cuts and whipping sores. All over his body, except his perfect face. The Dark Mark appeared on his left arm as he looked down in unspoken horror. That gave way to resignation, as the angry, bleeding scars of Sectumsempra appeared, and then the bone-charring burn from Theodore Nott's spell, the one Draco had deflected from Ginny. By the time bullet holes appeared in his chest, there was only grim acceptance on his face. He wouldn't allow another sound of agony or another expression of pain cross his face after that, as countless, unimaginable other atrocities marked his body. After eight years worth of injuries, till he was covered in full, till there was hardly any visible patches of skin left, suddenly everything disappeared, and he looked relieved, but then doubled up as his gut started bleeding, blood running down his thighs. More bruises, and then the vampire bites, the leeches, the burns from the Solarium potion. All his previous disfigurements surfaced once again._

_Bloodied, mangled and scarred permanently, finally no life left in him to stand, Draco fell on his knees. Through it all, he uttered no word of complaint, none of vengeance. But Hermione knew, she just knew, that s__he had let this happen to him._

_Guilt tore at her gut and the rising bile finally reached her throat._

_~o~_

Waking up with a start, Hermione ran to the bathroom to retch out a lot of nothing into the porcelain.

It meant nothing. Nothing at all.

* * *

Uhm, So things didn't work out so well for me:) However, I was so grateful to be a part of this soul-touching experience. You went out of your way for a complete stranger, and I will never have the words or the way to thank you for your selfless kindness. I felt so fortunate, like I was a part of something much larger, very close-knit community, something profound. Knowing that I had you all rooting for me reminded me to be positive everyday. I know the prayers were heard, and they'll work their magic when the time is right. If I can ever send my thoughts to the Universe for you, please don't hesitate to send me a line.

Dia


	41. Ch 41

AN: Last year, my Doctor told me that this study was reported in a medical journal in the US – Patients at the Cardiac ICU unit of a hospital were randomly chosen by the Hospital's pastor's secretary and the names were given to volunteers at a church to pray for them. The patients, the pastor, the families of patients or the hospital staff were not told about the study, to avoid the placebo affect. It was observed that the patients that were prayed for showed significant improvement, lesser complications and faster healing time as compared to others. I have added links to some such researches on my profile page.

**I write to request readers to please pray for the tsunami affected areas of the Pacific, and for the other areas that are still under danger of tsunamis. It doesn't matter which religion you are or what name you use for the Supreme Being.**

My heart goes out to those who faced danger and tragedy in the Australian floods and now with the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. I hope you, your families and friends are safe.

Sending prayers.

* * *

**(Hermione's Journal)**

**The North Pole to the Sun**

Months.

It has been some time

Since we turned our backs.

The ice creeps into my veins, altering me.

If I am it, I am not cold.

What good is your memory?

So, of course I adapt.

Welcome Santa and his elves,

Take warmth from the light in their window.

Looking far, I find others.

Mercury, Moon, Mars and more,

They bejewel skies I never saw before.

They teach, learn, smile, and journey with me in the dark.

Help me realise, here is full too.

You are not life.

Life finds us.

So I move on

As I try to forget.

I will forget it all.


	42. Ch 42

Uhm, there's a super short chapter right before, just in case you missed it.

**Recap-** Draco joined the Order, kind of, and was prickly about it through it all. Still sexy as hell, though, so Hermione fell for him through the adolescent years of toned-torso viewings through Grimmauld Place and the Himalayas- where they trained under a Guru who taught Harry n Hermione to Astral travel- which helped the lot of them kill the Horcrux in Harry, n ultimately Voldie. Then Draco decided to play Quidditch, make more moolah with his Dad's company, and essentially become a billionaire playboy. He helped Hermione's causes enough to keep her smitten. Hermione went about improving the world. She wanted a baby, and Draco provided an amusing solution. She jumped, though pretended to consider really long.

Ron played Quidditch too- largely absent from my story though, cos I just don't care. Harry n Hermes are thick and he warned her to keep distance from Draco when he thought things were getting hot n heavy. Hermione told him to mind his own business. Draco was actually pretty hot, though he always kept our girl guessing about his feelings. They got kinda close, kinda sweet, Draco got possessive, they got pregnant, lost their baby and then Draco disappeared for a while, cos he does that when emotions fry his brains.

Vamp army had gone wild in Australia, the Aurors through the World helped bring them down. A couple of months later Draco showed up bitten and our favourite know-it-all finally put things together. Unbeknownst to our leading lady, our ADHD-afflicted-hero was not just helping the Aurors on occasion, but was a bona fide Hit Wizard (Assassin)- always in mortal peril. Another vampire show-down, he forbade her to participate- Hermione of course, did not listen to him, almost died, he saved her, she took a spell for him, cos you know we need this drama- and then she finds out she is pregnant, and waits to tell him, but it doesn't come up in the conversation. He is furious, tells her he can't stand her claustrophobic bossiness, stuck-up ways and the lack of consideration for his wishes. She tells him he is irresponsible, wishy-washy and a certified jerk. Both are right, but don't like to hear the good stuff about themselves. He splits. She splits. Presently, they are still 'split'.

Thanks for being back. It's a short chapter, but it's a start.

* * *

**Severus Snape's chambers, ****Hogwarts Castle:**

"Narcissa, pleasant as it has been to receive your unscheduled company today, do you suppose you could get to the reason of your visit?"

"Severus, always so charming. Tell me, is it a potion you imbibe or did you read a self-help book by that Lockhart fellow?"

"If I tried to charm you, would you visit less?" The professor brought with him a kettle of fragrant hot tea, two cups and saucers levitating behind him. Placing everything on the table between their leather backed chairs, Snape straightened his robe as he sat down in front of the fire. Fall had made the castle, and his dungeon chamber, chilly this evening.

"Far too few people in the world brave insolence with you. You know you would miss me."

"Not presently. My quarters have played too generous a host to insolent Malfoys this week."

"He had the sense to show up here, did he?"

"Draco…" Snape let hang in the air.

"… Is a fuckwit." Narcissa supplied coolly.

Pouring lotus tea into the fine China, Snape bent his head forward, his straight silky hair failing to hide his half-smile.

"You are expanding your vocabulary. A worthy endeavour, I dare say." Severus handed Narcissa her cup.

"I am educating myself on Muggle colloquial verbiage, to keep me adept at communicating with my future in-laws and grandchild. Along the way, I picked up words I will not be able to use in polite circles."

His eyes crinkled at the jibe.

"Ms Granger's solitary vacation stirrred your feathers, did it?"

"Vacation? Is that how my son framed it?"

"You desire to locate her whereabouts?"

"If Ms Granger doesn't want to be found, I assume she is competent enough to make sure of it. Don't you think?"

"We'll see."

"I assume my son has already requested your help. How close are you to locating her?"

"The potion needs another New Moon."

"That is in two days?"

Snape nodded.

"I wonder if they have had enough time apart." Narcissa sighed audibly.

Snape carefully placed his teacup on the desk, leaned back against his chair, folded his arms on his lap and waited. The conversation had just gotten interesting. Narcissa could see Snape psychoanalysing this a thousand ways a minute. The long silence he maintained, a ploy, to draw her into filling the gap.

"Could you think of a better-suited match for my son?" she asked, raising her teacup to scarlet painted lips.

Snape cleared his throat. "Several replies come to mind, none appropriate."

It was Narcissa's turn to smile. "What was the phrase you used for Ms Granger when she was your student? Know-it-all. And in our previous conversation regarding her how did you describe her? Diligent, intelligent, strong sense of right and wrong, and I paraphrase, 'followed instructions too closely… one needs to understand how a potion works to improve it'."

"Age has not dulled your recall. I have said worse about her... and Draco."

"All well deserved." Narcissa sighed heavily. "You know them. Draco had never valued possessions he received too easily, and he has possessed most things far too easily. She has exceedingly strong opinions about almost everything, especially codes of conduct, and let us admit it, Draco will never adhere to stereotypical ideals. If he finds her without serious challenge or effort, if she alienates him again… she might prove to be even tougher to find."

Snape sipped his tea again before placing the cup very quietly on the table. "You already know where she is."

Narcissa inspected her nails.

"You were having her watched. If either of them find out…"

"_I_ am not telling them." She glanced at him pointedly before continuing. "I was merely astute in my foresightedness. You know my son, Severus. He is in many ways worthy, but it isn't entirely the child's fault that he was born with Sun in Gemini. He conceals it well with his obsessively controlling ways, but the boy cannot help but fly around on that wretched broom of his, comparing shades of grass in distant pastures. If only Ms Granger became the distant, greener pasture that he covets."

"You might be underestimating the extent of his… attachment."

"Oh, I have never doubted his depth of feeling. However, he does close to nothing about it, and her pride just stands in the way. No, he has had the luxury of having her in his life for far too long. If, however, he fears he has lost her..." Narcissa shrugged delicately.

"There is method to his life, Cissa. Credit him his reasons."

"Severus, don't insult my intelligence. I do understand some of his fear of commitment stems from fear for her safety."

"Safety?" Snape tilted his head, feigning ignorance.

"There have been far to many occasions requiring you to heal Draco over the years. Those were no more Quidditch injuries than you are a mermaid."

Severus snorted. "You should be having this conversation with Draco."

"To observe is wise; to ask, irrelevant. I do have another conversation premeditated, though. I am of the opinion that he has redeemed himself enough for his father's conduct. He needs to stop letting Potter manipulate his guilt, and get on with his own life."

"Irrelevant now," Snape countered concisely.

Narcissa's face brightened as she digested that. "Left the suicidal lot, has he?" Anticipation avid in her questioning eyes, she took his silence for the consent it provided. "Not a moment too soon. Now if he could just manage neutrality, happiness and a grandchild, we might yet live in peace."

"Peace?" said the Godfather who had known the Malfoy heir since infancy, and had failed to take note of a day of peace, adolescence through adulthood.

"Relative peace, then. I can compromise." Gracefully placing the near-empty teacup back on the saucer, Narcissa made to leave.

"You have never been one to go against your own judgment, Severus. I know you have Draco's best interest, and not just instant gratification, at heart."

Farewell said, Narcissa stepped in and then out of the Flu into her wing at Malfoy Manor. Tilly appeared instantly.

"Madam is back."

"Tilly, go relieve Noddy. I will need an update from him."

"Yes, madam." Tilly was gone.

Narcissa took off the pink pearl ear studs she had worn today, trying to draw peace from them, as she thought back to the day of the Vampire fracas. Draco had come home. He had been spending his nights at Hermione's ever since he'd returned from the Quidditch tour, injured, so it his presence had been an unexpected pleasure. Approaching his room, pleasure had condensed to alarm. Violent exclamations, loud bangs and the sound of glass shattering- expensive-Italian-hand-blown-glass shattering- could condense anything into alarm. Narcissa had entered without knocking to view clothes and a toothbrush strewn from a bag over his bed, his room a battlefield at dusk. Reticent and sour, his lips pouting in a sulk, he had reminded her of his seven-year self, throwing a tantrum when his puppy had been devoured by a stray Hippogriff; he had thrown every reminder of the pup away and adamantly refused to own a pet again. One look at Narcissa and Draco's mask had fallen into place. What was that she had barely glimpsed in his eyes moments ago? Fury? Hurt? Guilt? He had permitted her to witness only his apathy, refusing to answer questions regarding work or Hermione. Just like that, all of Narcissa's nursery plans had come crumbling down, and she could not, _would not_ permit that.

For reparations, Narcissa had told Misty to prepare Hermione's favourites, in anticipation of a reconciliatory meal. Thank Morgana, that Narcissa had been at hand when Hermione had called on the Manor, and found out immediately from Noddy that Miss Granger had deposited several boxes to be forwarded to the Master. Wary, she had instructed Noddy to keep a discreet and constant eye on Miss Granger's movements. Fortunately, Hermione hadn't apparated anywhere, which would have made it difficult for Noddy to follow. Muggle transport and locations, the House Elf had circumnavigated easily enough.

So, yes, she knew exactly where Hermione was, and had since day one of her disappearance. If Draco had had twice the confidence in his relationship skills as she had in them, he would have had Hermione followed too!

Being the mother that she was though, Narcissa couldn't place the blame exclusively on her son's shoulders. There were rules against that, somewhere.

_In all objectivity, it takes two to run a relationship and Ms Granger is perfectionist to a fault. A woman has to be the one to sacrifice more than the man- be it career, ego, family ties or even just her image. Is it fair? Merlin, no! Mother always did say, "Men erect the mansions, women build the homes." A man needs his woman's respect, feigned as it may be. If the woman only plays a stalwart opponent that never concedes, how can he find his sense of home?_

_Not to say that Hermione cannot be a strong, independent woman. Draco would never respect anything less. However, love ought not be a battlefield for titanic wills; rather, it needs to provide a place for rest and recuperation. The woman, as the nurturer in the relationship, has to know when to take a stand, when to forfeit, and when to perform healing spells. Men, simple creatures, cannot be expected to manage the complexities involved. Food, sex, power, money – these currencies evaluate their priorities. Different from women in so many regards. _

_Love rarely forms the essence of life for men. For them, love is just another facet of life, like family and work- essential to life… but not the essence of it._

_A realisation that doesn't come easy for most women. If they are to build homes, though, just the first of many truths to accept._

_If Hermione and Draco are incapable of compromising, better to find it now rather than later. Their innate personalities are too polarised to thrive together without struggle. Mercury ruled, Geminis and Virgos are practical rather than sentimental in their approach towards relationships. However, where Hermione's earthy Virgo traits leave her grounded, inflexible, tedious and officious, Draco's airy Gemini traits render him disassociated, adaptable, restless and transiently passionate. Their backgrounds, work, elevated status in society and bloated self-esteem make it difficult for both to be vulnerable._

_For now, the Runes were right- Draco lost Hermione. Perhaps it is for the best. The child rarely knows what he has lost till it is gone. Perhaps the shrewd Miss Granger concluded as much herself. Maybe she embarked on the journey with the very objective of teaching him a lesson._ _No, she is far too complex for such simple-minded scheming. Harbours a vindictive side, doesn't she? Denying us, denying Draco, knowledge of his child? Tsk tsk. I hope he doesn't forgive too easily. Some guilt will do her good._

When Noddy had reported that the girl was pregnant, Narcissa had almost apparated across the country to confront Hermione. Getting Hermione back, however, wasn't Narcissa's objective. Getting Hermione back and _married_ to Draco, now _that _was Narcissa's intent, and she could be patient. Lucius, however, had been less composed.

"MY GRANDCHILD WILL NOT BE BORN IN SHAME! Drag that Mu…"

"Lucius," Narcissa had interjected quietly, as was enough.

"Like I was saying before you interrupted, _wife_, drag that Muggle-born back to the manor and lock her in the dungeons if you have to."

Narcissa was glad for the foresight with which she had instructed the elves to empty the Dower house of all portraits. Lucius' thunderous broadcast would have ruined things. She couldn't afford for the news to spread like gossip, or one of the misguided portraits to reveal all to her son.

"If you are quite done with your paroxysm of rage? Calm down, Lucius, and help me strategise. We will have to filter just the right amount of knowledge."

Orchestrating a conversation between Tilly and Misty had been as simple as a command. Tilly had claimed to witness the short Flu-call Hermione had exchanged with Misty, and wondered vaguely if the faint deviations in Miss Granger's head's aura could indicate a pregnancy. Easily vexed, Misty had gone running to Draco. Since Tilly was bound to Narcissa from the Black home, she wasn't answerable to Master Malfoy, and could deny further knowledge during the interrogation that followed. Draco's sluggish apathy had changed into a torrent of activity. Narcissa had scarcely seen him since. The way he had treated women all his life, a little suffering wouldn't go amiss.

Surely if Hermione knew, she would thank Narcissa for it?

Narcissa massaged her temples in worry. It hadn't escaped her that her intrusion could lead to unintended consequences. She hadn't _caused_ the rift, she was just not helping in bridging the distance; the justification helped, a little. She had seen the lines of worry next to Draco's eyes, the increasing gauntness to his face, the drooping shoulders when he thought he was alone. He wasn't sleeping well, if at all. Had he crossed denial and anger, to reach acceptance? Could he comprehend what Hermione's loss would mean to him? Had Draco realised what was on the line, if he was ever again too flippant to consider their relationship expendable? Had Hermione?

Narcissa sighed in exasperation. _Just like his father, always getting into more trouble than he knew how to handle. Just like his father, he will learn to never underestimate his woman's wrath._

Noddy's appearance interrupted Narcissa's circuitous thoughts.

"Madam." The House Elf bowed.

"What has Miss Granger been up to since yesterday?"

* * *

AN: I have no words to thank you for the support you showed me during a crazy time, for your patience with my absence, and for being back to read this story, after this inordinate amount of time.

A sincere Thank You to

Ceylon for her cute messages, fun links, inspiring me, remembering me, reminding me, and being there in so many ways

and

Frostykitten for jumpstarting my writing once again with a review-per-chapter; This sweetheart read the whole story in a go, then went back to review each chapter. That's some good Karma.  
I am grateful to both for your help with the one chapter that I may not use, and this one that I did.

Shout out to Dixie who created the Narcissa and Tilly in Heir Brained.

A HUGE thank you to each and every reviewer for the encouragement they provided. My words are a direct response to yours. This story would have died in 15 chapters, if not for you.

Sincerely,

Dia


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